


I Don't Wanna Give In

by AllHandz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, FBI Agent Dean Winchester, FBI Agent Sam Winchester, Falling In Love, Love Triangles, Original Character(s), POV Alternating, POV Female Character, POV Third Person, Young Dean Winchester, Young Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2020-01-04 21:27:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 37,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18352052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AllHandz/pseuds/AllHandz
Summary: First love is always exciting, nerve-wrecking and brutal on the heart - even when your crush doesn't suddenly disappear from the face of the earth. Or randomly stands in front of you almost 10 years later.





	1. 1 - New Kid in Town

**Author's Note:**

> I have a rough idea for this, but I'm not yet 100% sure where I will be going with this. So please let me know what you think, I'm always up for input! Enjoy :-)

You know how it is when you're young. Days fly past, summer break is gone in a blink, you have 7 parallel crushes that sometimes only last mere seconds and the future is just this bright, abstract thing looming on the horizon. When you're 16 you only think about school, having a good time, your friends and the hottest and cutest members of whatever gender attracts you.  
Robyn Anderson is no different. Fairly popular thanks to well-off parents, being on the girls' volleyball team and mainly being blonde, blue-eyed and generally very pretty. She rotates her days off between the classrooms, the court and her various friends's houses. The summer had been exceptionally hot and when the new school year starts it is still incredible weather. Warm, soft, pliant air and blue skies. Robyn shows up on the first day in blue flip flops, jeans shorts and a yellow t-shirt. Her usual attire. Thank god her suburban school wasn't very strict about the dress-code.  
It's the same buzz as any other first day, a lot of yelling, hugging, excitement and gossip going on in the hallways. You'd think these kids had not in fact spent almost every minute of the last 10 weeks together. They act as if they had not seen each other in years, being too hyper and bubbly and just burning off excessive youthful energy.  
Robyn breezes through the halls, greeting her best friends Ash, Mal and Jen, giggling, checking out which boy had grown another inch or is sporting new facial hair. When the bell rings they can hardly focus on setting one foot in front of the other, but they do and so they make it into the class room and sit down and wait for Ms. Marshall to get her shit out of her hemp tote, yawn, do her little stretching routine and finally cough meagerly to get the attention of her class.  
Robyn takes a look around and sees 22 familiar faces in the rows in front of and behind her, before she turns her attention back to the front. Her 6th favourite teacher starts going on about what the year is bringing, what they'll be reading for English class and Robyn feels herself zoning out right until Ms Marshall mentions a new student. Ooh, fun! They haven't had a new kid in almost two years.  
“So, guys, he's new in town and all, so, you know.” No, nobody knows. She seems to realize this as well.  
“Anyways, his name is Dean, I'm gonna get him from the principal's now, be right back.” she says and whooshes out of the room. The chatter and the theories start immediately, even before the door is fully closed.  
Jen is already calling dibs on the guy and Robyn is laughing. A) because you never know what kind of troll will be walking in the next minute and B) because Jen, sporting long, thick, sleek, auburn hair, and pale green eyes with a cute button nose, never had to worry once about any kind of competition when it came to getting the hot guys.  
It only takes a few minutes before the door opens again the teacher comes back with the new student.  
Well, Robyn thinks, this is different. And feels her lips grinning.  
Behind the floral and ethereal Ms. Marshall walks in a fairly tall guy who looks to be at least a year older than the class. Tall, athletic build, wornout Jeans, old grey sneakers, a grey threadbare shirt underneath an ancient brown leather jacket, collar popped. In this heat. Ok, weirdo. He has an, also ancient, leather bag slung around his right shoulder and his whole appearance is a stark contrast to the other guys in either athletic outfits, or sporting baggy pants with giant oversized shirts. Just as Robyn starts observing the rest of him, Mal gives a low whistle right next to her and the class errupts into laughter while the guy in front looks weirded out. For only a split second. Before his bright hazel eyes look for and quickly find the source of the sound and give Mal a low and seductive AF wink. Now the whole room is just howling with laughter and holy shit, Mal is actually blushing. Now that's a first. Dean has a, well, how to describe it, other than... beautiful? Face. Sharp facial features, a straight, perfect nose, full brows, dark lashes Robyn can count from the third row they're so long and thick and full, those intently staring eyes, quickly scanning everyone in this room, giving silent appraisals, the hint of a stubble on the otherwise smooth cheeks, a splash of freckles covering the bridge of the nose and the cheeks, slightly longish, tousled brown hair with just a hint of gold and oh god, this mouth. Those lips. Robyn is wondering if he is wearing Carmex or something like that. They look so plush and soft and smooth. When he grins he exposes bright white and straight teeth. Holy fucking shit.  
Robyn can feel her heart pumping faster and thumping louder, working hard to increase her blood flow, her head buzzing, her cheeks burning. Bam, there it is, a new crush. Dean is still scanning his new class mates and for a moment those eyes land on Robyn and she imagines them light up for a flash before moving on to a new target.  
“So, Dean, do you... Would you like to introduce yourself?”, Ms. Marshall asks and begins to rearrange some pens on her desk. Dean breathes in and out, looking utterly comfortable with this room, this situation and himself. Robyn is fascinated. He's the most non-awkward teenager she has ever seen in real life. Herself included. He shifts his weight back and then forward again, just a bit, readjusts the shoulder strap of his bag, clears his throat and sports a shit-eating grin. Holy shit, again.  
Robyn is afraid her teeth will start chattering any second now.  
“Yeah, sure... Why not.” Dean starts and wow, now that's a voice for a what, sixteen year old? He gives a little wave.  
“Hi, yeah, so... Name's Dean Winchester, my little brother and dad and I just came into town two weeks ago...”  
Robyn briefly registers that there's no mention of a mom but that is quickly forgotten when he keeps talking.  
“My family and I do a lot of traveling around so I've missed a lot of school recently and I'm doing an extra lap this year. I'm gonna be 18 in January, I like rock music, old cars and football.” He finishes with this grin that to Robyn is already his trademark. She can virtually hear all the girls in the room swooning, at least the straight ones, and the guys groan in disbelief. It's no help that he actually is a good year older than all of them.  
Ms. Marshall seems happy with this frankly amazing introduction, nods and ushers Dean to a vacant seat in the row behind Robyn. She smells the leather jacket and a faint whiff of cologne when he walks by and drops his considerable weight into the small chair. His legs are so long the reach past the legs of her chair and almost come up to the side of her knees. She is simultaneously giddy, nervous, excited and scared of the near future. She hears Dean's steady breath in her neck.

It only takes a good month before Dean has made his rounds through most of the good-looking girls at school around his age. Guys love him, girls love him, teachers hate him, always causing trouble while looking like a Hollister model who raided into his dad's closet.  
Robyn has managed to more or less stay away so far, it's obvious that Dean means trouble. Nobody this good-looking doesn't. His little brother Sam, 13, also joined theschool. A quiet, shy book nerd that always lingers outside waiting for his big brother to come outside and walk home with him, wherever that may be. Robyn has observed this scene dozens of times now, she can't remember a school day where it didnt't play out like that. The experienced girls say he never takes them home with them. There's not much else they say, honestly, the reporting is quite slow and innocent enough. Which is very, very weird and unusual. They're teenage girls, after all.  
In those weeks Robyn's crush on Dean has developed into fully formed infatuation. She can barely think straight or get a word out when he's around and Jen can't stop teasing her with it. True, it is very unlike her to get all flustered just because of some boy, but what's a girl to do about it?  
“Get laid.”, Jen suggests when they're lying in the grass, the sun still warm on their faces.  
“Ugh, cut that shit out. I told you I'm not ready to go all the way, it kinda freaks me out.” Robyn sighs and she can just hear Jen rolling her eyes around and around.  
“Ok whatever you old prude, making out is a good start as well. You're still totally head over heels in love with Dean, huh?”  
Now it's Robyn's eyes that are doing the rolling.  
“Shut up.”  
Jen props herself up on her forearms and looks Robyn over. She lowers her voice.  
“Honestly, Rob, just talk to him. He's nuts, but actually pretty cool and nice.”  
“Not helping.”, Robyn grumbles and Jen sighs and lies back down.  
Easier said than done. It's not like she's not tried a bunch of times but whenever she gets too close her throat constricts and she can't get a word out. Which, again, is very, very unlike her.  
So she's resolved to just staring at him as inconspicuously as she can, which is not a lot.  
Jen sighs a deep, long sigh, before they both fall into silence and Robyn is on the verge of nodding off when Jen gets up to pee. It takes her a few minutes and Robyn enjoys the time alone, letting her mind wander, as it often does these days. Usually to hazel eyes, soft lips, and...  
The grass rustles next to her as Jen lies down again and just as Robyn opens her mouth – eyes still closed – to ask her again to describe what Dean's lips feel like, a few atoms drift into her nostrils and she can smell worn out leather and cologne. Holy fucking shit god damn fuck no help please!  
“Man, had I known what fall would be down here I would've forced my dad sooner to move down south.”, Dean sighs and Robyn can hear him settling in next to her. Which is surprising because her blood is rushing through her head so loudly she is sure it can be heard five towns over, like an oncoming tsunami.  
She makes a very non-committing noise to this and doesn't open her eyes. Just keep breathing Robyn, it's all good.  
“So you know I always stare on the back of your head all day in class, so I figured, why not check what her face looks like? If she even has one? Which, I can assure you I just did and you have a face, so no reason to worry there.” He just goes on, tone relaxed and chill, voice deep as ever. Robyn has goosebumps.  
“Can you let yourself be known, cause right now I think your sleeping.”, Dean says and she can hear it in his voice that he's grinning. So she takes a deep breath, and another one and then braces herself before opening her leaden eyelids. She only needs to turn her head a tiny bit to look right into Dean's eyes. Her breath catches in her throat and her cheeks are on fire right away. Turns out his face is not turned into his usual shit-eating grin but into a very gentle smile. A little of her tension melts off Robyn as she looks at him, as close as never before. Those lashes, hot damn. So many freckles. Thousands of them, all over his face now, even his eyelids and some on his lips.  
“I love your freckles.” Robyn's mouth says and Robyn is shocked to hear it. And even more shocked to see Dean's cheek turn from that tanned mess of freckles into a lovely shade of red.  
He makes a dismissive noise.  
“Meh, I don't, make me look like a little kid” He murmurs and Robyn takes him all in for a second, the 6 feet of muscle and leather and stubble with a voice like honey poured over gravel and she lets out an honest laugh, which leaves Dean in surprise.  
“Dean, I don't think you've had to worry about looking like a little kid in a long time.” Robyn replies, which causes a low rumble in Dean's chest that counts as a snorty laugh.  
“You might have a point there. So, Robyn...”  
Fuck he knows her name. He does actually know her name. Helphelphelphelp where the hell is Jen?!  
“It's Friday afternoon and this is nice, but what I really wanna know is what you do later tonight.”  
Uuugggggghhhh where's fucking help when you need it, Robyn is freaking out, this can't be happening, is he asking her out? What the hell!  
“Um, I, I don't... Know?”  
Wow, that was pathetic. Dean doesn't seem to notice though and instead draws a long breath and then lets it all out in a long stream by asking “Do you wanna go catch a movie with me later” without pausing between any of the words and if Robyn wasn't freaking out as much she would've realized that it wasn't only she who was being nervous about this.  
Robyn can only manage a nod to which Dean also replies with a nod. Wow, good talk, man.  
They both lay down on their backs and stare up into the cloudless sky for a solid while before Dean rolls over to his side, props up his head on his hand and looks down on her.  
“So, what do you wanna see, what kinda movies are you into. No chick-flicks though!”  
Robyn shrugs her shoulders over the grass.  
“I like horror.”  
Dean raises an eyebrow at that but doesn't comment on it any further.  
“How about Insidious? Have you seen it?”  
Robyn shakes her head to which Dean nods.  
“All right, do you wanna go? Damn don't make tickle the words out of you!”  
Robyn lets out a little laugh and once again turns to look at him. God he is just beautiful.  
“Yeah sure, can you pick me up?” She asks and he nods and grins. Ah, there it is.  
“I have a car.”


	2. First Dates and Black Beasts

So they agree on what film to watch – Insidious – and that Dean should pick her up – she hasn't had her license very long and her dad doesn't yet let her drive in the dark alone – and at what time – seven. Robyn suggested that, should her parents allow it, they could go for fries and a shake after the movie and Dean happily complied after Robyn told him that yes, they served pie as well. Robyn warns him about her parents maybe grilling him upon arrival and Dean doesn't seem to mind. They part, at least for the next hours, with Dean getting up from the grass and sauntering away, after writing his number in her notepad. Robyn doesn't even want to know how many other girls he already gave it to. The number, that is. But probably also other things. She is too happy about all of the recent events and doesn't feel like spoiling the excitement for herself, so she just doesn't.  
This is not at all how she imagined this day to go on. Robyn closes her eyes again. She is itching to run home and call of her girls conference-style and tell them about the newest development but again, she doesn't want to spoil this. She knows for sure that Jen has made out with him at least once and Ash probably has as well. Nobody needs to hear their best friends talking about the kissing qualities of the guy they're interested in. Interested, hah, what an understatement. Major butterfly alarm is closer to the truth. God, she hasn't had a crush like that ever since Brandon J taught her how to rollerskate two years ago.

When she gets home from school her parents are chilling in the living room, her mom kicked back on the couch, book on her lap, legs spread over her dad's lap who is very busy playing with his i-pad. They both look up at her when she comes into the room, already blushing because she knows what she's about to ask. Her dad just raises his bushy eyebrows, her mom rolls her eyes.  
“What now”, she sighs and Robyn laughs.  
“Nothing bad, mom. At least, I think.” She shrugs, walks over and plops down on the dark red carpet in front of the black leather couch their parents are sitting on.  
“I wanted to know if I could go watch a movie tonight? And maybe get something to eat after?”  
Her mom marks the page she stopped reading with her thumb and closes the book.  
“What about your homework.”   
Robyn waves that interjection off.  
“Not much to do, won't take me longer than an hour.” She replies and her mom squints at her for a second.  
“Who's coming along?” Her dad asks now and Robyn is blushing again. Her dad gives a little whistle. They're onto her.  
“Um, so, I think I've told you, that we have a new kid in class?” Robyn starts uncomfortably and again her parents share a knowing look.  
“Yeah, what's his face, David? Dean?” Her dad asks and Robyn shakes her heads and then nods.  
“Dean, yeah. He's moved into town with his dad and his little brother in the summer and he doesn't know a lot of people yet and we wanted to hang out for a bit.” All of that is the truth, isn't it?  
“What's he like?” Her mom asks and Robyn rolls her eyes.  
“A drug addict with a knack for strangulation.”  
Her mom slaps her across the back of her head lightly and Robyn giggles.  
“Mom, what do you want to hear? He's super nice and cool and smart. He takes car of his little brother almost all day, their dad is gone most of the time and so he doesn't get out much.” Again, all of this nothing but the truth.  
“What's his dad do?” Of course, nothing more important than that. Chris can't have his only daughter running around with some punk who's dad is a weird-ass teacher, or politician, or lawyer. Her dad, a hard-working mechanic with two own, large shops, has a very strong aversion against all of those.  
“He's a marine.” That earns another whistle. When her mom asks about Dean's mom Robyn just shrugs.  
“He never mentions her, I don't know him well enough yet to ask.”  
“Fair enough. All right, what time frame are we talking here?” Her mom asks. Her dad, now knowing all he wanted to know and being comforted by the boringness of it all, is already back to his i-pad.  
“He wants to pick me up at 7?”  
Her mom nods.  
“Ok, be home at 10.30. And he needs to come in when he picks you up!”

Grinning, Robyn gets up, walks into the kitchen, picks up the phone and puts in the phone number Dean put down earlier. She's stared at it for so long when she was still laying there that she already has it memorized. It rings three times before the call is being picked up.  
“Winchester” Rumbles a voice that is very like Dean's, but incredibly rich and deep. Must be Dean's dad.  
“Um, yeah, this, um, hi, Mr. Winchester, this is Robyn Anderson, I go to school with Dean?”, she starts off, a little nervous.  
“Ah yeah, he's told me about you, hang on... Dean! Phone!” Wait, what? What did he say? Ugh, probably just that he'll be out tonight with yet another chick.  
The line is quiet for a few moments, before steps come closer and Robyn's breath hitches when Dean comes on the phone, not knowing who's on the other the line, it could be anyone, and asking “Robyn?” Her grin threatens to split her face in half.  
“Yeah, hey, how's it going” She asks, dumbly and rolls her eyes at herself. Jeez, Robyn, get a fucking grip, it's just a guy.  
“Good! So! What's the plan?”, Dean asks, voice even richer on the phone. She wonders if he smokes, but she's never seen him do it or smelled cold smoke on him.  
“If you can pick me up at 7 that would be perfect, I need to be home at 10.30, what do you think, is that enough time?”  
“Well it certainly is for the movie and a piece of pie” Dean states it in a way that makes it sound as if there was something else that those hours would not be enough for but he doesn't elaborate.  
“Ok, awesome, but you'll need to come in when you get me, my parents insist. And I already apologize in advance, they'll probably roast you like a slab of ribs on the barbecue.”  
Dean chuckles on the other end of the line.  
“Yeah, that's fine by me. I wouldn't let my daughter go out with a stranger either.” It takes all of Robyn's strength to suppress a long, happy sigh. She gives him her address, he says he'll be there and she dashes up the flight of stairs and into her room, flying straight onto her bed, hiding her face in her pillows. 

Robyn probably would have heard Dean coming even if her window wasn't open, but it was and it takes her so long to realize that deep, bubbling rumble is his car until the noise stops right outside her house. Robyn's window looks over the backyard, so she can't see, but she can hear a door creaking open and slamming shut. She has no freaking clue what kind of car makes these kinds of sounds. She quickly checks her outfit in the mirror that's stuck to her door, teal coloured sundress, flip flips, curly golden hair flowing over her shoulders. That has to do. As she opens her door to go downstairs, heart beating almost out of her chest, there's a knock on the door and her dad seems to just appear out of nothing, opening the front door and there he is in his usual uniform. Behind Dean to his left Robyn sees a sliver of shiny black metal sitting by the curb. Dean is wearing, as always, ripped and faded blue jeans, Adidas sneakers, a simple crew neck shirt – today white is his choice – and the battered leather jacket. And the small, bronze amulet on a leather string around his neck.   
He looks past her dad for a second and sees her coming down the stairs, a bright, 1000 watt smile developing on that godawfully handsome face, before he turns to her dad and extends his right hand.  
“Good evening, Mr. Anderson, I'm Dean Winchester.”, he says calmly, evenly, and even though her dad's back is to Robyn as she steps down onto the wooden floorboards she still knows that both her dad's eyebrows just shot up to his ever receding hairline. They shake hands.  
“Hey Dean, nice to meet you, come on in.”, he says, friendly enough and Dean nods. As her dad makes a little room for him to come through the door he changes his angle and spots the car.  
“Oh wow, she yours?” Her dad asks and Dean grins, shaking his head.  
“No sir, I wish! She's my dad's.”  
Robyn nearly bursts out laughing cause she just knows how many bonus points Dean just received for calling her dad Sir. He loves that kind of old-school behaviour.  
“Well tell him she's gorgeous, and in such good shape! Good job! If he ever needs anything, send him down to my shop, huh? All right, come on in now.”  
Her dad closes the door behind Dean and he just looks and grins and beams at Robyn.  
“You look very pretty.” He says happily and Robyn blushes, hard, and waves him off.  
“Dean, just come into the kitchen real quick, so Robyn's mom can inspect you too.” Her dad says and winks at Dean and the three of them make a turn into the kitchen, where Robyn's mother is preparing dinner for the two of them. Her mother's face is turned towards Robyn as they walk in and so she can see exactly the emotions flicker over her face as she first lays eyes on Dean.   
“Oh, hi!” Mary exclaims, barely hiding her surprise. Dean towers over her a good foot when he shakes her hand.  
“Hi, Mrs Anderson, nice to meet you! I'm Dean!” He introduces himself to her and she just nods before she catches herself.  
“Yeah, likewise, Dean! But please, call me Mary!”  
And then something must've happened because while Robyn can't see Dean's face, cause he has her back to her, she can see her mom's. She was beaming at him one second and the next she shoots him a very worried look and puts her hand over his, asking him if he's all right. What the hell? Dean's lets out a nervous little laugh – what?! - and steps backs, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.  
“Yeah, gosh, sorry, I... My mother's name was Mary too. Sorry, got caught off guard there for a second.” He says and laughs again. Was. Past tense. Shit.  
He instinctively turns his head and finds Robyn's eyes, which just blink at him uselessly a few times, before her mind makes the correct matches.  
“All right guys, enough of this, we need to buy tickets and popcorn and if we chatter all night we're missing our movie. Come on, Dean!”   
Dean quickly shakes off whatever was going on, beams at her parents again, gives them a nod and a confirmation that he knows her curfew before following her outside.  
“I...” He starts as they walk over to the car, but Robyn waves him off.  
“Come on, let's get going, I can't wait to be scared shitless!” She gives him a little punch in the ribs and he grins, still recovering.  
“Is that why you're wearing a dress? So you won't shit your pants?” He asks, laughing, as he holds the passenger door open for her. Wow, this car is a beautiful, old, giant black beast. It looks ancient, but like her father correctly remarked, in excellent shape.

Chris and Mary just look at each other for a few seconds after the door closed on her daughter and her date. Mary speaks first, starting with a little sigh.  
“Wow, that has to be one of the nicest and best-looking 17 year olds I've seen all my life.”  
Chris nods and scratches his forehead.  
“Yeah and I'm now betting 5 dollars and a 30 minute back rub that he'll end up breaking her heart.”  
Her parents look at each other and both sigh and nod.


	3. Night Moves

The weeks that follow are nothing short of amazing.   
The summer weather still holds on tight all through the beginning of fall and Robyn now divides her time very unequally between school and volleyball, her girlfriends and gernally in Dean's presence. They hang out everyday, even if just for a few minutes, go to the movies, kick back in her living room playing Tekken on her old play station or spend time at the river, swimming, tanning, and of course and most importantly, making out. All the time.

Their first kiss was a classic: Dean drove her home after a bite to eat during their first date, they sat in the car, he not willing to leave, she not willing to get out and so they looked at each other for a very long moment, radio playing softly in the background, some sexy Usher song. Dean blinked, slower than usual and his pink tongue shot out just for a flash, licking the right side of his bottom lip. 

And Robyn leaned in across the seat, planting her glossed-over lips on his. As his hand moved into her hair and held her there, mouth against mouth, she tasted the apple from his pie on his tongue and gave it a lick. 

From then on the making out was fairly constant.   
And Robyn enjoyed it in a way she never did before. Dean was gentle, knew what he was doing and did it at her pace, not his. As far as she knew – and all of her friends confirmed it – he didn't see any other girls anymore after their first date. Not that she asked that of him, they weren't officially a couple, but still it would've hurt her like hell if he did. So she's beyond glad that, at least for the time being, it's just the two of them.

Apart from kissing there hasn't been a lot more going on, just once Dean's hand brushed over her ass , briefly, while they walked to class and it was so subtle that Robyn isn't even sure if he did it on purpose. So far he hasn't made any moves yet and she is grateful for that. 

Robyn's heard enough horror stories of girls getting dumped by their boyfriends when they wouldn't wanna put out.  
Also, Dean and Robyn have gotten to know each other very, very well. Robyn knows what happened to his Mom when he was four, Dean knows that Robyn is terrified of tight spaces and his sleeping issues, they always disagree on music and Dean doesn't own more clothes than fit into two duffle bags due to their regular moving. She knows that Dean and his family originally come from Kansas, but he doesn't have any other family left besides his dad and Sam. He even briefly mentioned what happened to his mother. Or, well, he gave her a general idea, calling it a horrible accident when he was a small kid and Sam still a baby. Dean loves bacon and all kinds of pie, his dream job would be restoring old cars (her dad would love that) and when Sam was young he would call him "Bean".

Robyn has long progressed from having a crush on Dean to being full-on in love. For the very first time. She's never professed it to Dean, nor has he ever said anything to her along those lines. Dean generally doesn't talk about feelings. At least not to her.

It's a Saturday evening in late September, the air a little cooler now, but still warm enough to spend every second outside.

Robyn and Dean are lying on the hood of the Impala, propped up against the windshield, each of them holding an extra large milkshake. Robyn's is mint chocolate, Dean's blueberry. Music is playing from inside the car, Robyn had asked about it earlier because she really liked and Dean informed her that they were listening to Bob Seger's Greatest Hits.   
Dating him, or whatever they were doing, vastly broadened her musical horizon. She is an RnB girl that now finds herself listening to all sorts of ancient rock music.

Dean had put a thin, old blanket beneath them for fear that the buttons or whatever on their jeans might scratch the paint and his dad ripping his head off as a consequence. Robyn has met John Winchester several times now. A very, very, very sincere man. Seemingly also very capable of ripping off gorgeous heads. 

“Man, this is so weird.” Dean says after a sip of milkshake and keeps looking into the dark, starry sky above.  
“What?” Robyn squints up at the stars, looking for the UFO or whatever Dean has just seen.  
“We've been here for three months now, and time just flew by, but I can't even remember us spending that long in one place.”

Robyn glances over at his face and, once again, decides that his profile is even better than looking at him straight on. The long, curled lashes, the straight nose, the full lips. She sighs quietly and he turns his head to look back at her and grins.

“I've asked him the other day and he said he was just tired of moving and he wants to stay in one place, so I guess... We're lucky?”

In the dark, Robyn reaches for Dean's hand and he grabs it, pulls it up to his face and gives it a gentle kiss, before putting it down again. Robyn takes a long drag from her shake, before putting the almost empty cup down next to her at the edge of the hood, and turning over to Dean. The metal is hard underneath her hips but whatever.

“It would be awesome if you stayed.” She says and all of a sudden knows she needs to say more and wants to say more and it makes her incredibly shy and awkward. Dean just smiles at her and nods.  
“Hey, Dean...” She starts, unsure on how to proceed and he waits, patiently.

Deep breaths. Robyn, in and out and in and out, it's all good. The Bob Seger guy is singing something about him being too tall and skinny but wanting to get with the girls.  
“I, um... Ugh, shit.” She starts and stops again. She's never been to this point. What to do? What to say? And when? Where the hell is Jen when you need her? She professes her love to seventeen guys each week! She'd know exactly what to say now and when to wink seductively. Dean is patiently waiting for this shit show of a conversation to proceed.  
“I just... Man, I suck at this. Listen, I'm just gonna – You don't have to say anything, I just wanted to. I'm. In Love. With you. Dean.” Robyn hates her voice for being so shaky and her hands for being so shaky and her heart for pounding so loudly it should shake the whole car. But now it's out. So far she doesn't feel better. Dean hasn't said anything yet. His facial expression is unreadable. She swallows, hard. This is not going well, at all.

Just as she draws a deep breath to tell him he should forget what she said he sort of pushes himself off his back, turns over a little, looms over her for a second and then kisses her.   
Like, really, really kisses her. Holy shit. Hadn't she been already lying down she would've probably fell over swooning. He means it, puts his body into, his weight gently pushing her onto the black metal beneath her.   
Robyn puts up her right leg to stop moving down the hood and Dean's left leg pushes into the new opening. He's not lying completely on top of her, more next to and over her, but now his hip is pushing on the side of Robyn's, one of Dean's hands has disappeared into Robyn's curls, the other is being used to prop himself up.   
And damn, is he ever kissing her. 

It makes her breathless, gives her goosebumps and makes her body turn a little more into his. Either he consciously feels this or his body just registers but either way it responds by Dean sliding over her a little more. She pushes her right hand into his soft, thick hair and holds onto it and her left hand lands on the small of his back. As he moves again, propping himself up above her now, each hand on each side of her face, his t-shirt rides up a little and she suddenly has warm skin under the palm of her hand and she gives a careful little stroke. Dean lets out a small sigh and if this isn't the hottest sound Robyn has ever heard a boy produce.

His legs are now on both sides of her right leg, his torso hovering above hers, his tongue playing with hers, he is biting her bottom lip, flicking his tongue against her upper lip and the butterflies in Robyn's stomach are going nuts and there's another feeling inside of her, of longing, and wanting.  
Dean pauses for a second and Robyn forces her heavy lids open, looking directly into Dean's eyes, bright and sparkly even in the near complete darkness around them.

“Right back atcha.”, he says, voice a little husky, and because it seems to Robyn they've been kissing for hours now she at first doesn't connect his statement to her own last statement and when she does, she can't believe it.   
Better not question it, instead Robyn slides her hand fully underneath Dean's shirt and up his back, softly raking her nails down his spine. And she watches, as his mouth slightly opens, while his eyes close briefly and he arches his back into her touch. 

Oh, wow. 

Dean shifts his weight and she can feel his hips pressing against her own. And she can feel something else pressing against her side.   
He leans down again and in for another long, slow, kiss and puts his weight on his left hand, leaving his right empty and free to roam over Robyn's body. Her fabric-covered shoulders, down her arm and her hand, up her ticklish side, ever so faintly brushing past her left boob.   
She shivers even though she is anything but cold and is shocked to feel her body pressing against Dean's, who promptly takes the invitation to lean over her and nibble on her neck and earlobe, his hot breath immediately cold against her damp skin. If this is actually what sex is like, Robyn now understands why Jen has so much of it. This. Feels. Amazing.

As if Dean has the ability to read her thoughts, he lifts his hips and moves his right leg towards his left so that he is now kneeling between Robyn's legs. As he kneels there their eyes meet and he blinks slowly, lips turning into a soft smile. Robyn is just laying there, rendered speechless.

“Man, you're just... So... Warm. And beautiful.” He says, still smiling, and Robyn blushes horribly but forces herself to not look away. Cause Dean, too, is just beautiful, sitting there in the moonlight, looking down on her.

“I could do this all night.” He adds and Robyn must be on a major sugar high because she hears herself say “Well, yeah, I could also do something else right about now.”

Oh, wow, Robyn, way to go and play the sexy seductress. 

Dean blinks at her twice, three times and she can see him swallowing hard.

“Robyn, I... You... Are you sure?” He asks incredulously. She wants to shake her head no, but her head actually nods yes. Dean lets out air he obviously held in for too long.  
The next thing that comes out of Robyn's mouth freaks her out even more than the previous. Way, way more.  
“Do we both fit into the backseat?”

Crickets are chirping, an owl is hooting, her blood is pumping, Dean is silent. Staring at her.   
Then, in one smooth movement, he is off the hood and holds out his hands to her, guiding her down onto the gravel, her legs all wobbly. He holds open the back door for her and Robyn doesn't know but they both get in and for a few moments they sit there uncomfortably next to each other, before Robyn kicks off her shoes and, wow, holy shit, straddles Dean, who also apparently can't believe what's happening, based on the look of his face. She's never straddled a guy before, what the hell happens now?

Dean's male instincts seem to kick in as both of his hands grab her ass, without any hesitation, giving them a gentle squeeze that Robyn can feel vibrate through her whole body. Oh well, at least one of them knows what to do, thank God.  
She bends down and kisses Dean likes she means it, because she does and this goes on for a few more minutes, before she pulls back a little and lets Dean pull off her sweatshirt over her head. He lets it drop down onto the seat next to him and regards her intently. Had Robyn known what would happen, she would've not worn a damn sports bra! He'll never, ever get that thing off. Again, Dean performs as a mind reader and starts laughing.

“Holy smokes, how do you even put that thing on?”

Robyn giggles as well. Everything about this is ridiculous.

“With a lot of baby oil. Help me out of it?” That gets a laugh from Dean. She lifts her arms high above her head, causing her weight to shift forward again on Dean's lap, feeling his erection push against her inner thigh. Damn, it feels good, somehow. Having this power over him, turning him on, this beautiful, perfect creature. He grabs the hem of the bra and pulls it up and above her head with a resolute tug. It lands on top of the sweater, Robyn lowers her arm and is, all of a sudden, incredibly shy and embarrassed. This is the very first time a guy has seen her boobs, which she personally finds too small. Dean swallows once and then looks at her through those impossible lashes.

“Can I... Touch?” He asks quietly and Robyn nods before she can change her mind.   
Dean takes another deep breath, his hands settling on her body again, one back on her ass, the other on her back and he leans forward. At first she feels only his lips, gently kissing her left, then her right boob. Tiny butterfly kisses that make her legs shake all over again. And then his tongue flicks over her raised nipple and a moan escapes Robyn's mouth that she's ashamed of for a second before she feels Dean arm wrap around her, pull her closer and tighter onto his lap. Did he like that sound? Must have! The feeling of his tongue on her nipples is beyond anything she would have ever, ever imagined.

Dean grabs Robyn by the waist, lifts her up like she weighs nothing and lays her down on the cold leather seat. She watches him take off his shirt and even though she's seen his smooth chest and abs many times by now this time is different. Probably because she can also see a clear bulge in his jeans. And that sight surely is something to behold.  
Dean settles between her legs again and hesitates before opening the top button of her jeans. Robyn's breath hitches and he quickly searches her gaze to check in.

“I've never... Done this.” Robyn whispers and Dean's hand stops.  
“We don't have to, Robyn, it's fine.” He replies softly.  
“That's... Not... What I was saying. Just... Be Careful.” She whispers and Dean nods, serious expression on his face.  
Then he unbuttons her jeans, grabs the waistband and just as he settles to pull them down, Robyn's nerves get the better of her.

“Stop.” She says louder than she wanted and Dean does, immediately, while flinching.  
“I can't do it.”  
Nothing's even happened and Dean's face is calm and understanding but still, or maybe because of just that, Robyn feels her eyes well up with tears.  
“No, no, sssh, it's good baby, I won't do anything, don't cry!”

He's never called her baby and that makes her cry even more and while she balls her eyes out he buttons up her pants again, helps her into her bra and hands her her sweater, all the while wiping her tears off her cheeks and then they sit next to each other again, Dean's palm drawing slow, infinite circles on her back, his breathing slow and steady. No more bulge in his old jeans. Robyn checked. Shes does feel like the biggest baby ever. Wow. She was the one who started it and now she doesn't want to go through with it. Robyn doesn't even wanna know what Dean must be thinking of her. He's been awfully quiet.

As they climb out of the back, gathering their stuff from the hood, moving into the front seats, Dean starting the car and reversing out of their spot... She is still sniffling, while putting on her shoes again, and he is is still quiet. But when they're on the gravel road, he puts his hand on her thigh just above her knee, giving it a soft and reassuring squeeze.

“I'm so sorry, I'm so stupid!”

Dean sighs and his thumb rubs over her leg.  
“No, Robyn, I shouldn't have... Given into it. It wasn't cool of me to rush it. Just forget about it, ok?”

As they drive home through the darkness, listening still to Bob Seger, Robyn wonders how she's supposed to look at him at school tomorrow.

As it turns out, she doesn't.


	4. Something in Between

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Dean in this one, but it's getting very explicit, so buckle up.

The place is thrown into darkness when she unlocks the door, even though it's not even 7 pm yet. David must've drawn all the blinds. The AC is cranked all the way up – cause he can't stand the heat - its broken fan whirring quietly in the corner. Robyn silently closes the door behind her and relies on her other senses to feel her way into the kitchen, setting down the heavy grocery bags on the white fake marble counter. Apart from the fan doing its thing the apartment is quiet, no sounds are coming from the bedroom. She turns on the small light above the stove.

Robyn stashes the food she bought in the fridge and pantry, gets out a fresh bottle of rosé, unscrews the gap and pours herself a tall, cool glass. Glass in hand, she leans against the counter and kicks off her pumps. Damn, her feet are hurting from these godawful shoes.  
She just stands there, in the dim light, breathing. This job is sucking out her soul, day by day. But hey, the pay is good. And if she pulls through another 1 or 2 years she will have saved enough to turn to a job she actually enjoys. 

After a few minutes she tiptoes into the pitch black bedroom. Standing in the doorway she waits for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, sipping on her cold wine. Finally, a shape starts to form in the middle of the bed. David is, as usual, lying flat on his back, one hand next to him on the mattress, the other one crossed over his body, palm flat on his broad chest.

His breathing is long and steady, he looks completely relaxed. The room smells faintly of stale smoke and Whiskey. David probably took a shower, like he always does when he comes home in the early morning, but this smell is always only oozing out of his pores after a particularly heavy night.

She walks over to the bed and gingerly sits down on the side of it, right next to David's sleeping body. She's still sometimes caught off guard by how much of a giant he is. 6'6, 240 pounds, hands like graveyard shovels, feet like paddles. She switches the glass from her hand to the night stand, where his phone is, a glass of water and pack of painkillers and uses her free hand to brush through his thick hair, wavy on the verge of curly, jetblack, a little bit longer and usually just styled by running both hands through it across his scalp. Bradley Cooper, hangover-style. But judging from old family photos David wore it first. As usual his cheeks are covered in a thick black stubble.

After maybe a minute of Robyn gently stroking through David's curls and caressing his stubbly cheeks, he stirs. He gives a little noise, not really a moan, not really a groan, just some small protest, before his right hand comes up and grabs hers. He pulls it to his mouth and gives it a slow peck, then pats the hand before slowly pushing it downwards over hard, dark-haired abs underneath the covers. Ah, yeah, morning wood at 7 p.m.

“Hey, gorgeous.”, he rumbles and his voice sounds as if 10 packs of Marlboro went down his throat last night. Which is probably not too far from the truth.

“Hey... When did you get home? I left at 7.30 this morning.” Robyn asks, softly, cause she knows how to ease his mind gently into consciousness. A process that, for David, can take seconds, minutes, or even hours and sometimes, when he's in a really bad place, he never wakes up. Well, his body does, but that just makes it worse cause then she has a literal zombie shuffling around the place for days on end.

“Dunno, 9ish?” He replies, grimacing. Robyn pets his boner one last time before pulling her hand way, which has David grimacing even more.   
She doesn't want to and she know she shouldn't, because it's pointless, and only ever leads to endless discussions on her end, but she still asks him where he was. His bar officially closes around 2, but he usually leaves it open for another hour or two for his regulars and/or buddies, often pulling out various instruments, jamming sometimes for hours and hours. But after those nights David is usually up bright and early, as if the session recharged his batteries. But when he's like this, still fast asleep when she comes back from work, stinking of everything she hates, it's mainly due to another reason. 

Her question makes him open his eyes. She's been with David for over five years now and has known him for even longer that but still his eyes often catch her off guard. It's not only his incredibly intense stare, as if he was looking right into your core, your soul, no, it's mostly the colour of his irises. At first glance they just look incredibly green, or maybe teal, kind of like the ocean, but when you get closer you can see that they only start off this teal shade but the closer to the pupil the more yellow it gets and there's a small ring of bright sunshine yellow colour right around the pupil. For the longest time she was convinced they were some kind of special effect contact lenses but no, they're not. They're so bright they seem to glow in the dark. And no matter David's mood or the state of his mind, or his body, his eyes always radiate... Well, there's no real word for it. Just, intensity.

So he's looking at her with those eyes, gauging her mood and basing his answer off of that.

“Nowhere particular love, just out.” He says, Scottish accent broad as ever.

Robyn takes a deep breath. Most couples have a secret language with words and phrases that have a totally different meaning to them than to everyone else. Like code. And “just out” usually means that he fucked some random girl.

Robyn figured it fairly quickly. They were only dating a few months before David started doing it, trying to be all secretive about it. But, he's still a dude, and if there's something men are NOT it's being able to keep a secret affair. At first she was just so hurt, of course, but also very confused. They had sex a few times a week, on the weekends sometimes several times a day and boy, was it good. They tried out new shit, used every surface inside and out of the house, surprised each other, made each other come, so why did he have the desire to fuck around on her? 

Even though he is 28, 3 years older than Robyn, she is his first serious girlfriend. She thought that was due to the lackluster Scottish female material, but it turned out it was actually due to David not being able to exist without constantly hunting. It wasn't the new sex he was missing or that he didn't find her hot (at least that's what he says) but he is always craving a new hunt. Selecting and stalking his prey, making his move, the feeling of success when she was finally lying under him. So much so that when those girls were indeed lying there underneath he was already over it. Ready to move on. So by what Robyn has heard from multiple sources he just quickly finishes them off and then takes off, apparently often without finishing himself.

Yes, it's something a good shrink could very likely fix. No, David is not willing to go that way. No, Robyn is not willing to leave him because of it. No, Robyn is not also fucking around on him. That's not her style, never has been.

She lets go of the breath she's held in and gets up from the bed.

“Come on, get up, I'll make us something to eat.” She says and hates that she can hear the defeated tone in her voice.

When David comes into the kitchen 15 minutes later, freshly showered, ducking underneath the door frame, he grins at her.  
“So, how was your day, lovely?” He asks and plops his massive body down onto of the three wooden bar stools opposite her, watching her chop up some veggies for the pasta sauce.  
“Well, technically nothing interesting happened to me, but there was some gossiping going on in the tea kitchen, remember how they found those two dead women?”  
David nods, props up his chin on his hand looks at her.  
“Well, apparently today they found a third.” She adds and throws the red onions into the hot olive oil. They start sizzling and Robyn moves on to the garlic.  
David's raised an eyebrow.  
“Shit, does that mean serial killer?”  
Robyn shrugs.  
“I'm not an expert on that, but Anna at work, her cousin is with the Sheriff and she said he mentioned talks of bringing in the FBI.”  
That forces a low whistle out of David.  
“So, those women, what were they like? Do you need me as your bodyguard from now on?” David asks with a smirk but Robyn knows there's seriousness in this question too.

“A bit older than me, that's all I know. So yeah, I think it'd be best if you followed me around at all times now.”  
She stirs the garlic into the pan, turns down the heat a bit and watches the tiny squares dance in the oil.  
David gets up from his chair, walks around the kitchen island and takes his place behind her. He gently pushes her hair away from the left side of her neck and bends the 11 feet down to give her tiny kisses she barely feels, but that are still tangible enough to give her goosebumps. He smells like peppermint shampoo and bodywash and his naked chest is nice and warm as he leans against her, carefully pushing her up against the side of the stove. He knows his strength, or rather, he actually doesn't, and that's why he is always extra careful not only with her but with everyone who's not a physical match. So far Robyn has never encountered someone who looked as if he could take on David.  
He truly is a gentle giant.

David's groin is pushed against Robyn's lower back, she can feel him getting hard and damn if she doesn't want that right now, but her stupid body responds anyways.  
She turns off the stove, pulls the pan away from the hot burner and turns around.  
David pushes her hair behind her ears, studying her face, resting his hands on the sides of her neck. He could probably snap it in half if he wanted to, like a mikado stick.  
Then he bends down towards her again and she closes her eyes right before his lips land on hers.  
Robyn doesn't count the seconds but the kissing quickly increases in urgency, she can feel David's erection pressed hard against her stomach and holy shit is she ready herself.  
She pushes away from David, only a moment, to get out of her sensible work pants and her underwear, David sliding down the only thing he is wearing, a pair of dark gray briefs, and then he grabs her underneath her arms and easily lifts her up on the counter.

The stone is cold underneath her bare ass as she slides forward a bit closer to the edge of the counter, pushing the chopping board to the side and David steps up to her, slinging one arm around her wait, supporting her back. Robyn wraps her calves around his hips, pulls him close and David uses his free left hand to guide himself inside seamlessly, but slowly. As always, it takes Robyn's breath away for the first few pushes, thanks to David's cock size matching all the rest of his giant body. He knows to be careful and gives her inch by inch, pausing in between moves to let her adjust. And then he's all the way in and Robyn is seeing stars, arching her back, closing her eyes and David takes the signal and starts to move. She wriggles a little on the counter,knowing exactly how to angle it so that his cock rubs against her just the right way.

David is going a steady rhythm, pacing himself and it surprises her because when he started she thought for sure it would be a quick one. Oh well, it still seems to be one for her – whatever it is today, it only takes 2 or 3 minutes of David's perfect speed and angle before she can feel it building up inside of her. David knows Robyn well enough after all those years, knows what her hitching breath means, her moaning getting higher in pitch, so he slows down for a few long, very long seconds, letting her collect herself, before he starts going at it in earnest. He's not increasing the speed, just the power. Three thrusts of that and Robyn comes undone around him, letting herself fall into David's arm because she knows she can, he is holding her, waiting it out, knowing not to move until she's safely back to consciousness. 

“Jesus Christ Robyn, how can you get even tighter when you come” He moans, forcing himself to be still inside her until she finally opens her eyes again and looks at him.  
Well, shit. David didn't even need to move again, just that feeling of her being so goddamn tight around him and pulsing and her looking right into his eyes is enough to push him over the edge too.  
He collapses over her and Robyn can feel him pump inside of her, once, twice, three times and then once more before he calms down. 

They stay like that for a while, both not being able to move, before David carefully pulls back and they both wince at the sudden separation.


	5. The Bed I Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that it took me a while to get this up, I got caught up a bit in work and a holiday without Wi-Fi. But here's the next chapter and the next one after is finished as well.  
> Have fun :-)

Robyn and David are sitting at the dining table, shoveling forkfuls of delicious pasta into their mouths in silence. The radio is on in the kitchen, tuned into a local country station and a Luke Combs song is on when David clears his throat.  
“Robyn, listen” He starts and Robyn swallows, hard. That can't be good. She puts her fork down and looks at him, waiting for him to say whatever horrible thing he has to say. Maybe David is finally breaking up with her.

“I'm sorry.” He says instead and it's so far from all the possible sentences she anticipated that it takes a while to register in her brain and for her to ask him what he was talking about.

David runs both hands through his and seems to gather himself a bit before elaborating.

“Well, I... We have been together a few years now and I still fucking love you more and more the longer I know you and... I know it's really hard for you sometimes but you still put up with it and I – I don't – I feel like if you suffer through my fucking around the least I can do is... Fuck around less.”

Robyn just blinks at him, dumbfounded.

“Whats going on with you? Are you dying or something?” She asks incredulously. David shakes his head.

“No, I'm not doing dying, ya dummy. I just – Ugh this is gonna sound weird, but the other day it hit me that we're not getting any younger and I should be so fucking grateful that you're with me, still, and I am, and I – I don't want you to wake up one morning a few years down the road and regret giving me your best years.”

This is getting more and more unbelievable by the second.

“Where is all of this coming from? Did you have some kind of epiphany when you fucked me on the counter?” Robyn's tone is a lot sharper, and cooler, than she had intended and she is a bit taken aback by it but David doesn't seem to notice, or at least to mind.

“No, love, it's so stupid but all those women dying in the last days, like, what – What if – What if in their last seconds they realized, fuck, what the fuck have I done with my life? I don't want that for you.”

“Getting offed by a serial killer?” Robyn asks and now David rolls his eyes.

“Jeez, no, that too, but at some point regretting your life with me. So I wanna make an effort, or at least try, for you.”

 

It was just before closing time the night before when Jen came into the bar, still in her scrubs, hair pulled back, deep dark circles under her eyes. She must've just gotten off her shift.

“Hey love, can you switch the sign outside real quick?” David asks as a greeting and Jen wordlessly turns back towards the entrance and switches off the neon sign in the window that reads “Open” in blue letters before switching one the one next to it, which reads “Closed” in red.

She shuffles over to the bar and pulls herself up on the stool opposite of where David is cleaning the tabs. She still hasn't talked, which is very unlike her, and David takes a moment to study her more closely. Tired, yeah, beautiful as ever, but with a weary look in her eyes that's a bit out of the ordinary.

“What can I get you, sweetheart?” He asks, Scottish accent thick with affection. Out of all of Robyn's friends, Jen has always been his favourite. Almost always happy, honest, reliable and loyal.

“Just a Wodka soda for now. Thanks.”

Their eyes meet when David hands over the glass and damn does she look like she's seen a ghost.

“You wanna talk about it?” David offers and keeps wiping down the shiny chrome tabs. Jen sighs, long and deep.

“They found another body and just brought her. I saw her when I brought some papers down to the morgue. Damn, David, she looks like she was run over by a semi.”

Jen pauses to take a long swig before continuing.

“But it was, somehow, just a guy! How is that even possible? How fucked up do you have to be to do that to another living creature? It was just... Awful, man. I wish I could erase it from my memory, but I'm sure I'll never forget the sight of her on that slab.”

Another swig, but this time she stays quiet after. David keeps on cleaning for a few minutes but she doesn't say anything else.

“Is that all?” David asks, carefully, looking down on her. She thinks, then sighs, then looks up at him.

“Well, actually no. I mean, that's really fucked up, but I – Something happened and I don't know whether to tell Robyn.”

Well that's a novelty. To David's knowledge there is nothing the two of them don't share. David knows this first-hand because it was after Robyn and he dated for a just few weeks before Jen warned him, drunkenly, to not destroy her best friend's lady bits with his giant pant snake. That's the actual wording she used.

“All right, so... What happened?” David asks. Jen sighs, rolls her eyes, empties her drink and waves the glass around. David takes it from her and tops her up.

“Well, I'm not sure if I can tell her, but I sure as fuck can't tell you. So I'm gonna speak hypothetically now, all right?” She starts after her first long sip. David just shrugs and Jen seems to be looking for the right words.

“Ok, so. Earlier today when I went to work... It was a few hours after they found the new victim and way before they brought her in – So they just found her and it was clear now that there's a fucking goddamn serial killer on the loose in our small, boring-ass town. That's not even relevant but I was shook up, so I'm still mentioning it. Anyways, on my way to work I made a stop and at the stop some... Something happened.”

“That's ominous.” David comments and moves on to fill the dishwasher.

“Yeah, well... It fucking was. So what happened wasn't negative, or positive, it was just... An event. But. It's connected to Robyn. And if I tell her about it... I have no clue how she'll react. Indifferent, rage, sadness, breaking up with you, it's all possible.”

David head snaps up and around to Jen.

“Wait, what? How is her breaking up with me a possibility?” He asks and can feel his heart rate speed up. What the fuck is she going on about? Jen seems to really think about how to reply and which words to use.

“Well... Ugh I don't know how to say this without going into too much detail... Imagine I would give you, right this minute, a considerate chance of something you really wanted a while ago, but thought it was lost forever.”

David nods slowly.

“Ok, so, if I did that, you'd think about that chance, right? Is it something you'd still wanna do? Or did you come to terms with your life now and don't wanna take any chances? Maybe you'd evaluate your situation, but what was OK for you before now seems less than OK. I'm sorry, I know this doesn't make a lot of sense, can you follow at least a little bit?”

Jen is grimacing and David nods again, even slower than before. What. The actual. Fuck.

“Like, say, back when you were young you always wanted to live in this beautiful house. But it was way, way over budget for you to ever have a realistic chance of buying or even renting it. So over time you accept it, you look for a new house and you find another one that's absolutely amazing. The first one still crosses your mind somehow, but you bought this one and it's great and you feel at home... Until... Until say, you win the lottery. 10 million dollars. Now you could afford that house, but only if you sold the one you already bought and love. What would you do?”

David and Jen look at each other a long moment before David asks: “Am I the second house?”

Jen wriggles on her chair a bit.

“No, well, no... Not necessarily you, just the life she lives right now. Generally.”

Now it's David turn to grab a clean glass, a bottle of 18 year old Talisker, fill it up and down the hatch.

“So what's the first house?” He asks and Jen shakes her head.

“Now that I can't tell you. So what the fuck should I do? Tell her that she can afford the first house now and that it's up for sale? Or shut the fuck up because she's happy in her new house?”

David refills both of their drinks and leans his hip against the cherry tree counter. Jen watches him miserably.

“Shit, David, I'm sorry for dumping this on you like that, I just don't really know what to do here and you know her so well, and -”

“You know her better than anyone else, Jen. Seriously ask yourself if telling her would make Robyn happy, or not. If there's a big chance of her being happy, then of course tell her. But if you suspect it might make her miserable, keep it to yourself. Since you won't tell me what this is about, this is the best I can do for you.”

Jen looks at him, before clearing her throat and sitting up a little straighter. Uh oh.

“Speaking of making her miserable... What the fuck do you think you're doing with her? You know that she fucking hates it, right? And I know you love her, so why the fuck can't you keep that massive dick of yours in your pants and stop breaking my best friend's heart?”

David and Jen have had versions of this conversation many times, but she's never been this clear about her position. David can feel the tops of his ears burning with shame. Damn it doesn't feel good being called out like that.

“Honestly, I really wanna know. The other day I met Lauren at the nail salon and she told me you fucked her the other week, made her come like 5 times and when she said she couldn't take no more and wanted to blow you, you were like, Thanks but no thanks, and took off? What the fuck? All guys I've ever met cheat on their partners because the sex sucks, which, as far as I know, is great between Robyn and you. You don't even get off with your side bitches, why the hell do you do it? How hard can it be to just jerk off if you get too horny to wait until you're back home with Robyn?”

“Wow, you're really laying it on me tonight, huh?” David asks quietly while he feels his blood boiling in his veins. Jen's tone is calm and serious. No bitchiness there, no rage, just honest lack of understanding.

“Yeah, I am, cause I'm tired of listening to Robyn crying, literally crying, about you fucking around and her being a fucking joke in this town because it's not like you're too discreet – Everybody knows what you're doing and it's so embarrassing for her on top of all the hurt she feels from just not being enough for you. And then... This... Thing happened today and it really got me wondering, you know? What her life would be like without you in it? David, she wants to marry, and have kids, for fuck's sake!”

David can't even reply to this. Everything Jen says is hitting him in the face, the brain, the gut, like a wrecking ball.  
Jen takes a deep breath and downs another drink, before sighing.

“David, I love you like a brother, you know that. But Robyn is my best friend and I'm tired of seeing her hurt over you. So either you get your fucking act together or I'm gonna tell her about her dream house.”

“Are you setting a fucking ultimatum?” David asks, voice louder than he wanted and Jen flinches before regaining her pose.

“Yeah, if that's what it takes to treat her with the respect she deserves. That's called tough love, buddy. Now stop looking at me like that and pour me another round, cause the two of us are getting wasted tonight.”

 

Robyn searches David's face again and yeah, he looks miserable, but also serious and determined.  
So she walks over to him, stands next to him, puts his head against her chest and strokes his thick hair. What else can she do?


	6. Digging My Grave

It's friday and just so close to the weekend when it all goes to shit.

Robyn leaves work early, on a beautiful and sunny spring day and she wants to do some weekend activities (hiking, mountain biking, fishing, whatever you can do together while the sun shines down on your ass) with her newly reformed boyfriend, but when she comes home at 2 p.m. he's still dead asleep. So Robyn puts on her running gear, plugs up her ears, puts her phone in it's black nylon cuff, ties it around her bicep, sets a hard rock playlist and starts warming up in the front yard.   
A bit of stretching, a few jumping jacks and Robyn is off towards the woods.

The spring sun is warm on her face, but there is a light breeze going and so when Robyn runs over the treeline into the forest she is in the chilly shade and the wind is cooling the sweat on her skin. She is doing her usual round, just over 4 miles, with some gentle hills, nothing too crazy. She doesn't like running when it's too warm, but today is still tolerable. She's grown up in this town, in these woods, so she knows them like her own basement, every small path, every creek that can be crossed with a little jump, all the clearings easy to cut through. She's always preferred going a little cross-country – everybody can stick to the trodden down gravel paths. Robyn wants to explore. Boldly go where no woman has gone before.

AC/DC is hammering in her ears and she's running over a clearing now, the wind coming against her, cooling her down. Ah, that's what life is all about. Being free, feeling your body, experiencing shit. Maybe – just maybe – if David actually sticks to his new self they can explore together. It's not that David is lazy (quite the opposite, actually) but their ideas of a good time outside don't really match, unfortunately. For Robyn it's this, being outside, covering distance, seeing new sights, getting blissfully tired. For David it's either a team sport like football, or making like a lizard and just vegetating in the sun all day with minimal movement. There's no in between for him. So, Robyn is used to being outside alone with herself and her thoughts. It's only April but thanks to the last few warm weeks the forest is in full bloom and smells like summer and warm, long nights, cold beer, burgers sizzling on the barbecue. 

Then the wind turns slightly and the breeze brings another smell from the next treeline ahead of her. Pine needles and sap, fresh green leaves, the blossoms of spring, dirt, earth, grass, and decay. Rot. The smell of opening the garbage on a hot summer day after you put in some leftover meat a few days earlier. Yuck. 

Probably the leftovers of a rabbit or baby deer. The foxes as vicious in these parts. As Robyn keeps going, the smell intensifies. Somehow it smells bigger and stronger than a small dead bunny ever could. It is intense. Maybe a hunter shot a deer and couldn't get it home yet? Without noticing it for a full minute Robyn's slowed down considerably as she approaches the trees. The grass isn't high yet and so, just as her face and nostrils are hit by another wave of death, she can easily see something lying there, just on the edge of the next dense bit of forest. It does look to be about the size of a deer, but... Less Hairy. And more clothed. She takes two tentative steps further, irrationally thinking she needs to see if maybe they need help but then she sees long, matted black hair, entangled with twigs and leaves. And two open eyesockets, staring up into the sky without any actual eyes.

Robyn just has time to whip around before throwing up into the grass.

It takes the cops almost 20 minutes before they reach Robyn in the woods and another 30 before paramedics and forensics show up. Robyn has found a spot upwind, with her back to the body, while she's being asked again and again how she ended up here. She even shows them her running app, where all of her previous runs have been mapped on Google maps so they can see that she always takes this route. There is no way of parking anywhere close, so every few minutes a new party of professionals arrive on foot, carrying heavy equipment, sweating underneath their full body suits and masks.

“I'm so sorry, Ms. Anderson, but I can't let you go just yet. I just received a call from the FBI, they're on their way as well to ask some questions. But as soon as those guys have what they need I can give you a lift home. Do you have anyone waiting there who can take care of you?” The sheriff eyes Robyn suspiciously and she groans.

“I'm telling you, Sheriff, I'm not in shock, I'm fine, I just wanna go home and shower! But yes, my boyfriend is at home. So if you could just drive me home...”

The sheriff lifts his bald head and squints towards the trees, where the body is, and gives a curt wave in that direction.

“Ah, the feds are here already. Just wait here, take a couple of deep breaths, yell if you need anything and I will be right over with them. No biggie.”

He struggles to get up from his crouching position on the soft, needle covered forest ground, before stalking off towards where the dead women is. So Robyn does take a few breaths, hums quietly to herself and tries calming herself down. Well. Out of all the possible things that could've happened today this certainly was not on her itinerary. Not only finding a dead body but also suddenly being a victim in a serial killer hunt. An adventure nobody needs on any day.

Robyn clicks through the folders on her sports watch and finds that her heart rate has calmed down again. All right, no heart attack approaching then, she thinks and turns around to check what's going on at the tree line now. The body is a good 100 feet away and there are a bunch of people around it now. Some forensics in those white suits and masks, some uniformed cops on duty, two bored looking paramedics who don't really have anything to do besides waiting for Robyn to act according to her “shocked” state and lastly two guys in dark suits with their back to Robyn, looking down onto the body on the ground. That would be the FBI, then. Robyn can see the sheriff gesturing and talking to them, while the taller one – longer, shaggy brown hair, incredibly tall, broad shoulders, long legs – keeps nodding and the smaller one – hands in his suit pockets, short, brown hair, a bit smaller than the other but still a good 3 inches taller than the sheriff – just staring down, not showing any bodily reaction to the nightmare at his feet.

Well that'll be a fun interrogation! Robyn has, as far as she knows, never met an actual FBI agent, let alone talked to them on any official business. It probably won't be as dramatic as in the movies, but still, you never know. Gotta be careful with these official dudes.  
Robyn takes a few of those deep breaths again and it's only a few more minutes before she can hear several sets of steps approaching from behind.

“She was just doing a cross-country run when she practically stumbled up on the body, poor thing! Seems to be doing ok though, considering.” The sheriff is talking, probably to the feds, just loud enough for Robyn to hear him.

“Ok, we'll just ask her few questions. What's her name?” This is one of the feds now, voice deep, but soft and understanding. Robyn immediately takes a liking. Maybe this won't be too bad after all?

“Um...” The sheriff starts, some paper rustling, probably checking his tiny ass note book for her name, and Robyn gets up from her tree stump, braces herself and turns around just as the cop announces her name: “Robyn Anderson”.

Robyn's eyes land - just for a second - on the taller agent, who is furrowing his brows as if remembering something important, before they're moving on to the shorter agent.

It takes all of Robyn's mental power – and the fact that her stomach is still empty – not to puke again, right there and then.  
The shorter agent is in his late twenties, a good six feet tall, probably more like 6'2'', with freckles over his straight nose, his stubbly cheeks and even over his forehead, and with moss green eyes staring at her out from under those fucking impossibly long lashes.

“Dean” It barely comes out as a whisper but still loud enough, the sheriff raising his eyebrows and looking back and forth between the agents and his prime witness.

“Y'all know each other then?” He asks slowly and a smile starts to spread across the taller agent's face as he nods.

“Yeah, thank you, l you can leave us to it now.” Sam says, kindly, and the Sheriff nods and trods off.

Robyn looks at Sam who is twice the size as he was when she last saw him and then looks at Dean again. This can't be real. Sam breaks the tension by stepping forward and pulling Robyn into a bear hug. She can feel solid muscle underneath his jacket and shirt and helplessly pats his steel back.

“Wow, I never thought we'd ever see you again!” He says, somewhere ten feet above his head and squeezes her again, so hard that her lungs don't work for a second, before releasing her. Holding her by both shoulders they look at each other and Robyn is amazed at how much he's changed. Especially since Dean practically looks the exact same way, just 10 years older.

“Yeah, right back atcha.” She replies but forgets to put a smile on her face to reciprocate Sam's happy face and he notices immediately but puts it down to the wrong reason.

“Sorry, I know this must be horrible for you, Jeez, but sometimes life also has some good surprises in store!” He says, smiling widely and Robyn musters a small smile herself, nodding slightly.  
Sam loosens the grip on her shoulders and steps to the side, obviously to make room and give Dean the chance to say Hi himself. Which he doesn't. He stands there, frozen to the ground, hands hanging down at his sides and Robyn registers how they ball into fists a few times and how a muscle in his right jaw is twitching and how the tips of his freckled ears have turned a dark brick shade.

Sam looks back and forth between them, looking very confused, opening his mouth to say something, anything, and closing it again.

Finding a murder victim in the woods was horrible, sure, but this situation easily surpasses that.

It's very obvious now that Dean won't move and Robyn can see the little wheels in Sam's brain working furiously, trying to figure out whatever the fuck is going on. Looks like Dean never told his little brother about how the young couple parted exactly, what happened the night before and probably also not that he never reached out to her after moving away.

Finally, Dean clears his throat and when he talks, his voice causes a ripple of gooseflesh over Robyn's half-naked legs.

“Robyn. I'm... You – It's good to see you.”

When Dean was a teenager, his voice was already fairly deep for his age, but smooth and soft and innocent. The sounds that come out of his throat now are less hu-man and more bat-man. Damn. Robyn doesn't even know what to say, so they just stare at each other. When Dean was younger he did have a slightly not-straight leg situation, which now has turned into full-on bow legs, no denying it. She knows how old he is and he looks older. Worn out. Tired, even though he's sporting a very solid tan. A pale scar runs an inch across his forehead, diagonally, and into his right brow. Robyn thinks she sees the last traces of a black eye. He is also, without any doubt, the most handsome, drop-dead gorgeous man she has ever seen in real life. It's irritating how sexy and perfect he is. It's like whatever good base he had going when he was 18 he's now maxed out all of his features to their full potential. 

Sam, bless him, finally realizes that this is not going anywhere and shifts his weight from one foot to the other to attract Robyn's attention. And it works and when Robyn turns her head back towards him she sees, out of the corner of her eye, Dean wiping his face with his right hand, a clean, matte silver ring catching her sight. Wow, she certainly never pictured him married so young.

So the very tame interrogation starts. Why did she come here, could someone know that she would be here today to find the body, did she see anything else, does she feel like she is in danger herself, does she know anyone in town that she finds suspicious, and so on and so on. It's not bad, they're done within half an hour, Sam asking, Robyn replying, Dean being quiet while staring her with a gaze intense enough for her to worry that her clothes might burn off. When the questioning approaches the finish line Dean takes off to check with the Sheriff if they're OK to drive Robyn home now, and they are.

They trek the few hundred feet to the car in hushed conversation. Sam and Robyn, that is. Dean is still mute. Robyn manages to sneak a few glances at him here and there and he looks like someone holding in a massive fart – very, very rigid, tense and uneasy. Maybe he can sense that Robyn has a strong desire to drop his body next to the dead woman's?

Sam asks about Robyn's life now and she tells him about her lame office job, her little house, and about some of the people he still remembers from school. When she briefly mentions a living-in boyfriend Robyn imagines Dean to flinch but when she turns her head over to him he is still staring ahead at the path in front of them.

When they come around the last bend in the path, the car is right there. Still black, shiny and beautiful.

“Oh wow, you still have the Impala?” Before she can stop herself Robyn has turned her head and directed this question at Dean. He quickly looks at her before looking back at the car and nodding.

“Yeah, um... I - I got it. Inherited it, actually.” He says with that gravelly voice and it takes a moment before the true meaning of the words found their way into Robyn's brain. She sighs and catches herself in the last second before her arm wants to shoot out and pat Dean's shoulder.

“Aw damn, I'm so sorry.” She says, truthfully, and looks over at Sam who gives her a brave little smile before nodding towards the car and opening the back door for her.

As she slides into the backseat and her naked calves touch the warm cream-coloured leather it's like she is beamed directly into another moment of her past. The last time she sat here when she cock-blocked herself out of her first time with Dean and sitting here now, with the brothers folding their large bodies into the front, it's like her mind is playing a loop. As the doors close and the vents turn on Dean's smell is being pushed back into her nose and damn if he doesn't still smell exactly the same as he did back then.

Metallica comes on when he turns the key in the ignition and Sam immediately reaches over to dial down the volume so they can continue their conversation. Now it's Sam's turn to tell her. About the morning they left because their dad was sent to Washington for two years, how they both somehow ended up at the same college taking law courses and both ended up at the navy for two years before applying at the FBI. Sam has only been in for a few weeks now, Dean a few years already.

John died three years ago on a mission in Iraq and that's all she hears on this topic.

The drive through the deep woods takes longer than her cross-country run through the brush and Sam and Robyn have almost 30 minutes to update each other, Metallica still playing, Dean still being silent.

When they pull into her driveway David's slate F250 is gone and Robyn sneaks a glance at her watch, just after five, so he's probably grocery shopping. He usually doesn't go into the bar until eight, unless he needs to cover for someone.

Dean parks on the left side, behind Robyn's ancient white Porsche convertible that David got her for 3000 dollars and gives a low whistle at the sight.

“No reason for jealousy, it's an actual miracle that this thing still starts, let alone drives.” Robyn states and is surprised when Dean kills the Impala's engine. It dies down with a low bubbling noise and for a moment, there's silence. Then Robyn pats Sam's back over the back of the front seat.

“Thanks for the lift, guys. Let me know if there's anything I can help with. Was good seeing you.”

She doesn't offer getting together again or asks how long they'll be in town for. Who the fuck cares. The sooner they disappear from her life again, the better.  
Sam turns around and smiles at her warmly and then looks expectantly at his brother, who, SURPRISE, doesn't even make a peep.

Robyn can read the emotions on Sam's face as clear as an old folk's bible, but Dean's face is cast in stone.   
She sighs, opens her door, scoots out, bangs the squeaky door shut and nearly screams when she turns around towards the house and sees Dean getting out of the car. He takes a deep breath before turning around to her and nodding toward the door to the house.  
Robyn swallows, hard, ignoring her shaky legs and churning stomach and follows Dean up the small straight path to the door. When they're standing in front of the door, Dean facing the driveway, Robyn the wall behind Dean, he looks at her. Really looks at her. Takes her in, looks her up and down. Robyn is so uncomfortable that she sends a quick prayer upstairs for the ground to just be so kind and open up and swallow her, please, thank you so much.

Don't talk, Robyn, don't say anything, let him say his piece and then bugger off inside.

“Ah, shit, I don't even – How do I start this?” Dean asks. Robyn doesn't know if it was directed at her or if he's just talking to himself, so she doesn't reply. They're standing so close now and yeah, it's still the exact same smell as it was all those years ago. His hair is shorter than it was in high-school, now a clean crew cut that perfectly accentuates his symmetric features. But those lips sure look juicy as ever.

He looks at her, begs her silently to help him along, but fuck him.

“Ok look, lemme just get it out and over with. I'm sorry, about back then. I was young and an asshole and you deserved better.” He rumbles and keeps a steady eye contact with her.

“Well, thank you. It's nice of you to say that. Now. 10 fucking years later. After I felt like shit forever. Asshole doesn't even begin to cover it. I was self-conscious enough already as a teenager, even without my first real boyfriend ghosting me after I refused to let him fuck me.” The words come out of Robyn's mouth without her thinking about them first and her tone is, simply put, poisonous. Dean flinches as if Robyn slapped him across the face and he needs a moment to recover and to let her words really sink in. That's when he starts looking confused.

“Wait, what?”

Robyn rolls her eyes like a possessed doll and sighs.

“Oh, come on, don't play dumb. That last night? You wanted to bang, I didn't, and the next day you disappeared forever, never called me, never sent an e-mail or even a fucking postcard? That was cold, I gotta give you that.”

Dean's eyes grow as wide as saucers.

“Woah, hold on, is that what you think?! For starters, YOU wanted to bang and the second you said you didn't, I stopped and I was totally fine with it! Actually, I was fucking mad at myself for giving in that moment cause I knew you weren't ready and I never would have pushed you, but I was horny and damn you were a good kisser! And yeah, I never contacted you after we left and that's what I'm sorry for. If I could turn back time I'd do it differently but in that moment it seemed right to me. I knew we were moving on the other end of this giant ass country and there would be no way we'd see each other again anytime soon and I didn't wanna string you along. And it was fucking selfish of me, cause I also did it to protect my own feelings, but yeah I should've just told you that.”

Now it's Robyn's turn to be lost and not understand at all what Dean is saying.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

Dean looks away for a moment, rolling his eyes, wiping his face again, his hands and that goddamn ring making scratchy sounds across brown, slightly reddish, stubbles. Then his eyes are back on her and damn does he ever look serious right now.

“Robyn, I didn't – I didn't ghost you cause I was mad you didn't let me into your pants! I didn't call you because I was crazy about you and you were the first girl I – You were my first girlfriend and it broke my goddamn heart that my dad forced me to leave! I thought if I had to hear your voice on the phone I'd probably straight up die from a broken heart.”

They look at each other for a long time after that. Robyn not able to believe what Dean just said, Dean incredulous that Robyn thought he was such a monumental bastard.  
“Holy shit Robyn, I can't believe that's what you thought.” He says quietly, his body leaning forward just the tiniest bit, Robyn registering it subconsciously, turning her upper body towards his.

She opens her mouth to explain as a loud engine rumbles closer. Dean throws a glance into the driveway across her shoulder but Robyn doesn't have to look. She knows the sound of David's pick-up well enough.

Finding the body was the first circle of hell, seeing Dean was the second. Having David and Dean meet like this is at least the third, but maybe also way deeper down. What the actual fuck did Robyn ever do to anyone to deserve this cosmically shitty treatment?

“Who's that” Dean asks, voice dropping even lower, incredibly, and squares his shoulders. Robyn has to suppress a giggle at the absurdity. 

“That's David.” That's all the explanation he'll get right now.

Jesus, take the wheel. Or at least make them not throw punches in her driveway.

While David comes up the driveway and Robyn hears him park Dean shoots her an intense look, not angry, just – yeah, intense fits pretty well. So fast that Robyn hardly realizes what's happened he's pulled out a little card and shoved it into the waistband of her running leggings. The band snaps back as the driver door of the truck is being opened and Robyn turns around to see Sam get out of the Impala, and Robyn nearly starts laughing at the view of Sam's facial expression.

“He doesn't meet a lot of people taller than him, huh?”, Robyn asks Dean, who just snorts.

David is wearing faded Jeans, flip flops and a plain white T-Shirt and still manages to look as threatening as a rabid tasmanian devil. It's the neon green eyes, the bushy brows and the canine incisors. Robyn knows that by now, but Dean seems to be as equally taken aback as his little brother by this giant.

“So, what kind of gathering do we have here?” David asks, as always in a good mood, and grins around Robyn and the two strange men in dark suits. Robyn takes a deep breath to prepare herself, before walking back down the driveway towards her lover, Dean in tow. Before she reaches him, Sam reaches into his suit jacket pocket and pulls out a small black leather wallet, flipping it open for David to inspect. His bushy brows crawl up his forehead like caterpillars on speed. As Robyn and Dean catch up to them, Dean mirrors his brother move next to Robyn. She sneaks a quick glance at his badge.

“I'm Dean Winchester, this is my brother Sam, we're FBI.” Dean says and the authority in his voice is impressive. Especially considering that David has at least 5 inches on him and easily 70 pounds.  
"And who are you?" He adds and his chin juts out a little. He's adorable when he's trying to look mean.


	7. Cover Me Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case this hasn't been obvious yet - the chapters and the whole fic itself are named after some of my favourite songs.
> 
> they make a nice soundtrack too :-)

David looks as if he can't decide whether to be amused or to be worried. He quickly scans Robyn's face, then Sam's, before turning his attention back to Dean who obviously calls the shots here.

“I'm David. David James MacKinney. I - I live here. What exactly is going on?” He asks and seems to have settled for confused, as the smile on his face has disappeared. David studies Robyn's face again, probably searching for some kind of explanation but she is too tired to explain anything.

“Have you heard about the... Serial killer?” Dean asks David with a tone of disgust in his voice, but with his face all business. David nods slowly.  
“Yeah, of course, people aren't talking about much else right now.” He replies.   
Dean doesn't turn around to look at Robyn before he quickly gives a run-down of what happened.

“Another victim has been found. By – By your girlfriend.” 

Robyn hopes that only he can hear Dean struggling to get that last word out. But, judging by Sam's raised eyebrows and David's apparent frown, she wasn't the only one picking up on it.  
David's gaze lands back on Robyn.

“You found a dead person?” He asks, disbelievingly. Robyn just nods. At this, Dean curtly turns his head towards her, checks her face and then talks to David again.

“Yeah, she did. She practically stumbled upon the body as she was running in the woods. Do you know the route she takes?” 

There is a sharp tone in Dean's voice and David doesn't miss it. His job is gauging people's moods and their reactions and it shows.

“Of course I do, we've been running together for years.” David replies and his voice matches the edge of Dean's.  
They stare at each other for some very long seconds, before Dean fully turns around to Robyn.

“Please stay in town, we might have some more questions for you later.” He instructs and Robyn nods again. Then he reaches out with his right hand, grabbing Robyn's naked arm just above her elbow and squeezing it gently. It's the first time in ten years that his skin touches hers and the sensation causes goosebumps on the left side of her body.  
“If anything happens, or if you – If there's anything weird going on, don't hesitate to call. I – We'll be right there.” He says, intently staring down on her and Robyn just keeps nodding. Sam produces two business cards seemingly out of nowhere and pushes one into Robyn's hand, the other into David's paw.

Without another word, Sam and Dean get into the Impala, bang shut their doors at the exact same time and the engine rumbles back to life.  
David and Robyn observe quietly how the huge car backs out of the now crowded driveway and onto the road to disappear in the direction of the city centre.

When they're out of sight and neither of them still hears the motor David turns to Robyn and pulls her into a hug.  
“Baby... Jesus Christ. Is everything OK with you?” His voice is soft in her hair and she sighs, slinging her arms around him.  
“Yeah, David, I'm fine. I mean – It was horrible of course and I'll never forget that sight ever again in my life, but nothing happened. I'm fine.”  
He holds her for a little longer before grabbing her by the shoulders and regarding her face closely.

“All right. I've got some groceries in the truck. You go on inside, take a shower and I'll fix us dinner and a nice hot cuppa and if you want you can tell me what happened today.”

And so Robyn trudges on into the house, and up the stairs into the bathroom. She retrieves the now slightly damp business card from her leggings and places it inside of her make-up bag, covering it in an assortment of colourful products.  
She turns on the little radio on the window sill, undresses and gets the hot water going. While she waits for it to heat up she can hear David rummaging around downstairs, getting the food going by the sounds of it.

When she comes downstairs again, wet hair in a bun, wearing her white bath robe, David is just setting the table and there's already a steaming cup of tea sitting at her place.

“Take a seat, love, food's almost ready. I made ya some bangers and mash and peas. Mum always used to make that for me when I had a shit day and it always helped, so I figured it'll surely make you feel better too.” David smiles at her warmly as she sits down and takes the now warm plates out of the microwave, heaping the food on them.  
Robyn takes a first sip of her cup and immediately starts coughing.

“Holy shit” She rasps and David's smile turns into a grin, including wiggling eyebrows.

“Put a little bit of a kick in it to ease your mind. Drink up, love, there's more where that came from.”

So Robyn does and this time even manages not to cough.

With two big, full plates David comes over to the table, sets the lighter one down in front of Robyn, puts his own plate down and plops down onto the wooden chair that groans in protest under David's sudden weight.

They both finish their plates in silence and it's only when David gets up to refill that Robyn starts talking, explaining to David everything that happened in the last hours. Well, almost everything. What she doesn't tell him is that she knows Sam and Dean. Or she knew. Or whatever. Robyn has never mentioned their names to David, so there was no moment of recognition when the brothers introduced themselves.

“I've never met FBI before. Those guys were intense.” David says, swallowing a forkful of mashed potatoes. Robyn nods and starts sipping her second cup of spiked tea. David apparently expects her to go on, because when she stays quiet at his observation he raises an eyebrow.

“Especially the short one seemed really – Uhm.... Invested in you.”

At that Robyn has to laugh.

“He's not short, he's just not some supernatural giant like you are!”

“Fair enough.” David admits and winks at her. She's sure it didn't go past him that she just completely ignored what he was actually asking, but he doesn't press on and for that she is very grateful. She can't lie to David. If he flat out asked if she knew the guys she would be honest. And she doesn't even want to begin to imagine the ensuing chaos.

Robyn doesn't miss David sneaking a quick glance at his watch after theyve finished their plates and she sighs.

“David, you can go. I told you, I'm fine. You can't keep the bar closed on a Friday night because of this.”

He seems very uncomfortable and indecisive.

“Robyn, I really don't feel good leaving you alone tonight.”

It takes a bit of talking him into it before they agree that Robyn would try to get Jen over and spend the evening with her. But he insists on waiting until she arrives. According to David his employees are not the brightest but definitely smart enough to open up without him and survive the first few hours.

When Jen arrives, David is in the shower, getting ready.  
Robyn and Jen hug at the door and Robyn waves her in. The bangers and mash actually did help, she feels significantly better than she did two hours ago.

“Gosh Robyn, I've already heard. They brought in the body an hour ago and I got word that you found her. How are you?” She asks as she kicks off her boots in the hallway, following Robyn into the living room. Robyn sighs, half-drunk on three very strong “teas”.

“I'll live. Unlike that poor fucking woman. Jesus, did you see her?” Robyn asks and Jen is sighing now, nodding.

“Yeah, I saw all of them. All the same... Wounds. It's just horrible.” They flop down on the couch and Robyn hands Jen a beer.

“So, what happened after you found her? Did you call the cops?” Jen asks and Robyn nods.

“Yeah, I did, lucky I had my cell phone on me. It took them a while to get there, of course, it was pretty deep in the woods. And they brought those forensics guy and paramedics and even a hearse to take her away and there were like 20 people buzzing around the forest. And then... They brought in the FBI.” Robyn stops to listen for the water still running upstairs.

As she focuses on Jen again it seems as if her friend was – shocked? Worried?

Robyn waves it off.

“Don't look at me like that, it wasn't a big deal, just a bit of questioning. But -” She stops herself, listening again. David is still in the shower.

“I gotta make it quick, I don't want David to hear this, but... Ugh how do even get this out! The two FBI agents... Jen, it was Sam and Dean. Winchester.”

Whatever Robyn expected to see on Jen's face – shock, confusion, surprise, disbelief, maybe even amusement – it wasn't there. So it was Robyn's turn to be confused. Very much so. Because the emotion very plainly visible on her best friend's face was guilt.

“What” Robyn lets out and it's barely a whisper. No more surprises today, for fuck's sake!

“Oh God, Robyn, I – Please don't be mad! I just didn't know how to tell you, but I – I met Dean. The other day.”

Robyn just swallows and breathes.

“I was at the gas station and the Impala pulled up and I hadn't seen a car like that since they left so I waited to see who was in it, just out of curiosity, you know – And it was Dean, and – We instantly recognized each other. He came over, said Hi, asked how I was doing and then immediately asked about you. I – Told him you were still living in town, with your boyfriend – which he didn't like at all, and then I asked him why he was in town. He said work, I asked him what kind and he showed me his badge. We just talked for a few minutes before I had to take off to my shift and that was it. And I didn't know whether or not to tell you that I met him, but it didn't seem to me that he was interested in seeing you so I thought I'd save you the heartache. I even asked David about it...”

Robyn's eyes nearly pop out of her eye sockets (oh God that reminds her of something she didn't want to remember ever again) at that.

“You what?!” She hisses and Jen immediately puts up her hands in a defensive mode.

“No, no, no! I didn't tell David exactly what happened, I just said that I knew something and that I wasn't sure if I should tell you, so I asked him and – He said, if I thought hearing it made you happy I should tell you and if I thought it might make you sad I shouldn't and I thought that was pretty solid advice, so I – Robyn, I never mentioned Dean or anything.”

Jen looks at Robyn with a pleading look and Robyn sighs.

“You were probably right about not telling me. I could've done without meeting him, actually. You won't believe what he said – He said he never called me after they moved away cause he missed me too much.” Robyn says quietly, rolling her eyes. Jen clears her throat.

“And you don't believe him? I mean – When he asked about you the day other he looked pretty damn miserable to me.”

The two women just look at each other for a while, pretty miserable themselves. Snapped out of their stupor only when David's heavy footsteps are on the stairs.


	8. Round and Round

“You sure I can leave you alone?” David asks, taking Robyn's face in both hands, staring right into her soul. Robyn sighs, for the umpteenth time tonight and nods as well as she can with him squeezing her melon like that.

“Jen is staying, you don't have to worry, like I said 30 times.” She mumbles through a fishy mouth and David lets her face go, sighing himself.

“All right. But lock the doors behind me. And call me, if anything funny is going on. Or better yet, call those FBI guys. They look like they shoot first and ask questions later.”  
David smiles down on her, gives her a peck on the forehead, takes one last inquisitive look at her and then he's out the door. Robyn locks up behind him and walks back into the living room, where Jen is waiting on their grey corduroy couch, relaxing. In the few minutes that Robyn was gone Jen appears to have wandered off into the kitchen, because there are now two glasses sitting on the before empty coffee table. Short, wide, with transpiration running down them, clear, fizzy liquid and ice cubes inside. Wodka soda, then.

They start drinking right away and also start talking about high school days, each of them reminiscing of their early sex lives and what they've developed into now.

 

At the bar, David is washing long drink glasses. It's pretty packed (as it always is on Friday's) but he never misses a thing going on in his bar. Not the couple in the corner making out hard enough for him to consider stopping them before they'll get arrested, the few guys hustling pool with the emotions running high already even though it's not even ten and also the door opening and the FBI walking in.  
David straightens up, involuntarily, and the hairs on the back on his neck stand up. Something is rubbing him the wrong way about those two dudes.

What's that saying again, keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?  
As the feds look around the room for a free table – there are none, of course – David lifts his right hand and waves them over to two free spots at the bar, right next to the tabs.  
The taller one nods and smiles and starts making his way to the bar, while the shorter one has the exact opposite reaction: His eyes narrow, his laser sharp jaw tightens and damn, he straightens his back too, before following his partner over to David and sitting on the left stool.

“Hi, David, was it, right? You work here?”   
The taller one begins, friendly enough. David repays the smile and shakes his head.  
“No, or well, yes. I own the bar and I also work here. What can I get you? First round's on me.” David offers and the shorter turns around to David, after surveying the location and other patrons just as carefully as David did before, and looks him straight in the eye, one eyebrow cocked. 

“Oh, and how's that?”

Damn, that man is a handsome fucker. Not like David's into men but he is perfectly able to judge another man's level of attractiveness and the short one is pretty high up there. The tall one isn't hard to look at either, but this one makes even David feel like a potato. A very large, hairy one at that.

“Well – there's apparently a serial killer on the loose and my girlfriend, being a woman, fits the pattern, and you're here to stop him. Least I can do is keep you from dying of thirst. So, what will it be, lads?”

The shorter one – Dean, right? - snorts at that, but then nods over David's shoulder to the booze rack.

“Quite the impressive Whisky selection.” He comments and David grins, shrugging.

“Well, kinda comes with the territory.” He replies, laying on the accent extra thick. The tall one – Sam, if David's not mistaken – smiles. Ok, Sam isn't so bad. Just this Dean bastard is an asshole. Fine then. Suit yourself.

“So, you're Scottish? How long have you been in the States?” Sam asks and since David still hasn't received an order from them he just draws them two fresh, hoppy IPA.  
“Around 6ish, close to 7, years. It wasn't planned that I stayed that long, I was here for school, exchange semester, but – Well, I kinda exchanged my whole life.”  
He sets the beers down in front of them and both nod a silent thanks. Sam obviously wants to keep the conversation going, but Dean grabs his beer, puts it to ridiculously perfect lips that look like they have a built-in Carmex supply and downs it in three long gulps. He sets down the glass and holds up an index finger. David nods and starts the second one going.

“What made you stay?” Sam asks and David feels himself smiling, while carefully topping up the glass for Dean.  
“Robyn. I mean – Robyn didn't make me. But. She kinda did.” David replies, grinning, handing over the second beer to Dean who just scowls at him. Wow, what a fucking hard-on this dude is.  
Sam takes his first sip, nods happily and seems to settle in for a longer talk.  
“Yeah, I get what you're saying. How did you two meet?”

David gives them a very brief summary of how they met in class, he asked her out right away, she gave him a hard time for a few weeks before finally agreeing and them being inseparable ever since. And how she just without a word moved in with him after six months.  
Sam laughs at that.

“Aw man, that sounds just like her.”

The next few seconds are weird. Because David laughs at that but then he realizes that this is a very weird statement, coming from someone who – to David's knowledge – has never met Robyn before today and the smile freezes on his face. And right then he is very sure that he sees, or maybe even hears, Dean cussing under his breath and kicking Sam under the bar, because Sam's smile falters as well and he stares at Dean.

“Do you -” David starts, unsure how to proceed. What the actual fuck is going on here?

“How do you know Robyn?” He finally asks and Sam clears his throat and very obviously tries avoiding Dean's eyes. But he does look at David.

“Well, from school, actually. My family lived here for a short period a long time ago and we all went to the same school.” Sam replies with a steady voice and David nods slowly. This still seems very weird to David, like, super fucking strange, but he can't put his finger on what exactly seems fishy to him. It'll only occur to him a few days later when he sees Sam again that Sam looks to be at least 3 years younger than Robyn. And David of course doesn't know how American high schools work but he knows for a fact that a Scottish teenage girl would be rather caught dead than hanging out with a much younger boy. So even if the school story is true, Sam certainly doesn't know from the jolly old time they had together.  
And it takes him even longer to remember that both agents have the same last name and Dean looks to be either Robyn's age or just a few years older.

Sam and Dean leave soon after that and David stares after them as they make for the door, disappearing into the dark night outside.

 

Saturday is spent mainly in bed. Robyn being hungover, David just tired from work. The don't get up until late afternoon when the pizza they ordered in bed showed up.  
After that, Robyn went to shower, while David took off to the gym for an hour.  
Jen and Robyn had really laid into that Wodka last night, phew. It's still pounding on every pore she has, wanting to be let out of her system.  
Slowly all of yesterday's events are sinking in. Robyn has no clue what to do and Jen didn't have any intelligent input either. Her only suggestion was to bang Dean to get back at David for all those of years of their “open” relationship. Which Jen always calls their “osmosis” relationship, because the opening is only one-sided. Ha. So clever. As the got more drunk they started speculating how David might react if Robyn ever cheated on him. They were very creative in their ideas.

Robyn doesn't even know if she should call Dean, or Sam, and if so, what to say, or what to ask. She feels everything is said. Even if Dean told the truth yesterday it wouldn't change a thing. Ten years have passed and back then it was just a teenage summer fling. Nothing serious. Nothing to write home about now.

When David leaves for the bar at 7 p.m. he asks if Robyn wants to tag along, help out for a while – she often does when she's bored, she likes the work and most of the people who come in – but Robyn just wants to vegetate on the couch and watch her trash reality shows.

“No, seriously. By now I'm sure a lot of people have heard what happened and I'm in no mood recounting it 57 times. I'll wait a few days for the body-frenzy to pass before my next social outing.” Robyn says grimly. David finally nods and gets up from the ground where he tied his shoe laces. Robyn has no idea how he keeps his sneakers so white while wearing them bar-tending almost every night. It's a miracle.

He bends down, kisses her good-bye, instructs her to lock up and is on his way.  
Robyn breathes a sigh of relief as she hears the truck rumbling away, locks the back and front doors, grabs her chips and bottle of rosé and gets comfy on the couch with the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Now, those are real problems. Who wore what first, who said what about whom, who owns the biggest house. Hell, yeah.

 

It's still fairly quiet at 7.30 p.m., David is just hauling crates of booze out front, when he comes back from the storage room the last time, carrying a carton of Jägermeister with him, and fucking FBI asshole agent Dean walks up to the bar and sits down. Alone tonight, no Sam in sight.  
He's also not in a suit, but in a dark Jeans, heavy boots, a blue flannel shirt and a black leather jacket.

“Off duty, agent?” David greets him, carefully and sets the box down, taking out the bottles and storing them in the little freezer he keeps under the bar just for the Jay and Wodka. Both taste better ice cold and thick like syrup.  
Dean wipes a hand over his stubbly face and nods.  
“Yeah, I am. So no agent, tonight. Just... Dean.” He blinks and looks at David, who just nods.

“Gimme a nice, cold one of those IPA you have on tap and a double of... What's your favourite Scotch?”

David bites his tongue, swallowing a comment about how by starters they're not called fucking Scotch in Scotland, and takes out a bottle of 25 year old Laphroaig. 

“All right, first off, this one is on me.”

Dean opens his mouth to protests but David interrupts him.

“Only cause you poor federal employee couldn't afford it. The bottle is over 400 bucks. And second, this is one to enjoy. If you throw it back I'll smash the bottle over your head. So, take your time with this amber beauty and after that I'll serve you the Johnnie to get pished. Deal?”

Dean holds up both hands in defense and nods.

David gets two crystal tumblers from the tallest shelf and pours Dean and himself each two fingers worth. The glasses clink when they cheer and Dean does follow David's instructions. Taking a small sip, keeping it in his mouth for a bit, swishing it around, before swallowing.  
His eyebrows raise up and he nods slowly in wonder, staring at the glass.

“Holy shit, that is amazing. Thanks, man! Maybe I judged you too early.” Dean says and David looks up in surprise.

“Uh-huh? And how exactly did you judge me?” He asks and Dean grins at him. This is the first time David sees another expression on the other man's face than a sneer, a frown, or a scowl. Again, how does this dude look so good? His face is so bloody symmetrical. As if thought of on a drawing board instead of being a random combination of random genes from two random people.

“Well, we're just starting to get along, so let's not get into that, shall we?” Dean's grin grows wider and those eyes suddenly have a sparkle to them. David blinks, slowly.  
“Are you wearing false eyelashes?!” He then asks, baffled at those long, black, thick, curled lashes. He's never met many women with lashes like that, let alone men.  
The grin disappears and Dean finishes his Whiskey, slamming the glass down hard on the bar.  
“All right, let's get me going on the cheap stuff now, come on.”

It's just after twelve when Dean gets up to take a leak. Whew, that was a lot of alcohol in a fairly short time. He blinks a few times when he gets down from his bar stool and makes his way through the crowded bar to the restrooms. Both stalls are empty so he takes the left, closes the door behind him and sinks down on the seat, closing his eyes, head resting against the cool tiles. Ah, that's nice.  
Dean is usually very, very good at judging people. Always has been and has gotten even better at it thanks to this job. But David is giving him mixed signals. Started off as a plain asshole in Dean's book, then transgressed over to the positive side. But Dean is still unsure. Also he's still on the verge if maybe his senses are only clouded because he knows that this is Robyn's boyfriend. 

Dean takes a few minutes to collect himself, before taking a leak, washing his hands and getting back out into the bar room.  
When he rounds the corner to the bar he stops in his tracks.   
There's a young woman sitting on his currently vacant stool. Damn, she's hot. Slender frame, fairly short (her feet don't reach the foot rest), in a sexy outfit, long, dark, straight hair, full boobs hanging over the bar. She's looking up at David, who seems to be mixing her a drink, grin on his face. This dude is a fucking giant. Dean is used to being around large people, thanks to his so called little brother, but this David guy is another story. Dean guesses him to be at least 6'7'' and no less than 230 pounds. To Dean, he looks like a mix between Thor, King Leonidas and a black-haired Viking. Not a force to be reckoned with.   
The music is too loud for Dean to understand what they're saying but it seems that they're talking to each other.

David is pouring a pale pink liquid in a long drink glass, sticks a rosemary twig in there and hands it over to the chick, who takes a long sip before nodding in appreciation. David grins and mirrors her nod. Just as Dean sets into motion to claim his prime seat back, she gets up from his chair, extends her free hand to grab David by the T-Shirt, pulls him over the bar and the 17 feet down to her and kisses him smack on the lips. Dean full-on expects David to draw back. But. He doesn't. At all. Not after 0,5 seconds, not after 5.   
The sight of this has Dean's blood boiling. Has him checking all the exits. And the other patrons. Has him re-evaluate if maybe David is all showy muscle and no actual strength. Has him pat down his side and regret not bringing a gun, or any weapon for that matter. Has him grind his teeth, ball his hands into fists.  
Relax, Dean, calm down. You can't kill a man in his own bar with 70 witnesses.  
When the making out ceases after a few more seconds and the chick strolls off, with David very openly looking after her, Dean shakes everything off, takes a few deep breaths and walks back to the bar, back to his chair.

“Another whisky, lad?” David asks cheerfully when Dean sits down and Dean just looks at him, shaking at his hand, grabbing his half-full beer.  
“Everything OK? Need a cab?” David asks now, misjudging the situation as Dean being drunk.  
“Buddy, the only time I won't be driving myself home is when I'll be in a goddamn hearse.”  
His tone has changed significantly since he came back from the bathroom. So, Dean is an asshole again. Oh well. David shrugs and Dean glances on the black plastic watch on his wrist.

“How long are you open for?” He asks and David shrugs again.  
“At least until 2, but usually a bit longer.”  
Dean nods, pulls out a worn out leather wallet, slaps 30 dollars on the shiny wood of the bar, gets up, turns around and walks out without another word or another look at David.  
David drops his rag on the bar, rakes both hands through his thick curls and sighs. Maybe an urgent call and that's why he asked how long the bar will be open for. He'll be back.  
David cracks his neck, shakes off his bad feeling and cranes his head around the room, looking for Casey, with her grapefruit gin tonic and that tight little ass. David has been trying to get with her for weeks and now that he made his goddamn resolution to be faithful, at least for a while, she is about to give in, he can feel it. 

 

Three women in very, very expensive outfits are sitting on a beach, fighting about the room situation in the luxurious resort they're in when there's a knock on the door. A loud one. Robyn jumps up half a foot on the couch, heart hammering out of her chest. She checks her phone for the time, 12.20 a.m. She pauses the TV and listens. Another knock. Fuck, shit, damn.  
Would a serial killer knock though?  
Carefully, Robyn gets up from the couch, grabs her phone, dials 911 and lets her thumb hover over the green phone button as she walks down the hallway towards the front door.

“Who is it?” She yells, two feet away from the door, thumb still hovering.  
She doesn't even dare look though the peephole for fear of what or who might be outside.  
“It's Dean. Winchester.” The replies comes instantly, rumbles through the front door and up Robyn's spine. She deletes the dialed number, slides the phone in her back pocket and is at the door, unlocking it before she can even consciously make that decision. The chain rattles as she drops it and then she turns the knob, pulls open the door and Dean is standing on the porch, illuminated by the porch light above his head. He's not wearing his suit.   
God, he can't possible have known that she has a very, very soft spot for leather jackets, can he?

Robyn swallows hard at the sight of him, standing on her porch at night, alone. No Sam in sight.  
“I parked a bit down the road. I - It seemed to me like you haven't told your... Loverboy about us, so I didn't... Wanna blow your cover.” Dean explains. As if that actually explained anything at all.

“What are you doing here? In the middle of the night?” Robyn asks and crosses her bare arms in front of her chest.

Dean spreads his arms and lets them drop again.

“Robyn, listen, I – I don't know how long we'll be staying and I -” Dean is being interrupted by Robyn's laughter.

“Wow, I'm having such a strong sense of deja-vu right now, it's crazy!” Dean rolls his eyes at that and gives a little twist of his head at the same and that gesture is so familiar to Robyn that the deja-vu gets even stronger.

“You know what, fine. I just wanted to clear things up once and for all, but I get it. You've made up your mind, you're living your happy little life with this great guy...”

Dean's voice is dripping with sarcasm and something else and Robyn blinks twice.

“Why did you say it like that?” She asks and stares at Dean. He sighs and lets his head hang low, before looking up at her. Fuck. He's so. Fucking hot, goddamn. It's like he's fully grown into his body. Everything's come together for him.

“Forget it. Listen, I – Jesus, I'm sorry I came here, just. Forget it.”

Dean turns around and starts leaving when Robyn makes two long steps out the door and grabs Dean's hand just as he starts going down the stairs. He squeezes her hand back, stops and turns around, back towards her.

“Sorry. The last days have just been. Hard. I'm sorry.” The apology leaves Robyn's lips on its own.

Robyn looks up at Dean and she can sense rather than see that something shifts in his body. He seems rigid all of a sudden, taught tight like a fishing rod with a big salmon fighting on the other end. Then he lets out air he's obviously held in and in he visually depletes and lets go of her hand.

“No, I'm sorry. The last thing you need is a stalker right now. I better get going.”

The angel on Robyn's left and the devil on Robyn's right shoulder are having a shouting match right now, yelling into both her ears, screaming orders and whispering well-meant, but horrible advice.  
The night air is soft and mellow on her bare arms, some crickets are chirping in the bushed lining the little porch.

“Do you wanna come in for a bit? Have a beer with me? Legally?” Robyn asks and feels her mouth smiling and her eye winking. Oh, no. 

Judging from the look on Dean's face right now he has those same discussions happening on his shoulders as well. Dean turns his head to the side, blinks, licks his lips, blinks again, slower this time, and then a smile spreads across his face and he looks back to Robyn, nodding.   
Robyn's knees feel like buckling as she turns back to the house, walking in and closing the door behind Dean with a soft click, not bothering with the lock.


	9. I'm on Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey little girl, is your daddy home?  
> Did he go and leave you all alone?  
> I got a bad desire
> 
> Tell me now, baby, is he good to you?  
> Can do to you the things that I can't do?  
> I can take you higher
> 
> Sometimes it's like someone took a knife, baby  
> Edgy and dull and cut a six-inch valley  
> Through the middle of my soul  
> At night I wake up with the sheets soakin' wet  
> And a freight train running through the middle of my head  
> Only you can cool my desire
> 
> Oh oh oh, I'm on fire

Robyn sinks down into the couch opposite of Dean, who is sitting in the armchair, and just takes it all in. He has a sweaty beer bottle in his right hand, the ring clinking against the glass when he adjusts or lifts the bottle, his left hand lying loosely on his thigh, legs spread, body slouched down, relaxed. 

The first second she saw David in College she was very strongly attracted to him. And she still is, very much so. The smallest things can turn her on like nobody's business, and David knows it, and often uses it to his advantage. But still. Her incredibly strong attraction to David could never be rivaled by her raging desire for Dean. She feels like she is burning up, literally. Her ears are burning, her eyes are watering, she is starting to sweat. 

Dean throws a glance to the TV, regarding the frozen scene of a bunch of well-maintained 50 year old women in expensive outfits, looking as mad as they can with a face full of botox and fillers.

“Wow, looks intense. What's goin on there?” He asks before looking back at her. Robyn rolls her eyes, grabs the remote and clicks the TV off.

“Well, if you must know. Lisa spread gossip about Kyle to the press, but Lisa is denying it. So now there's mad beef. Also, this is Lisa's trip to Dubai but even though Kyle is her best friend she put her in the smallest suite with the shittiest view of the Burj-al-Khalifa. So, you can imagine, it's mayhem.”

Dean raises his eyebrows and gives a low chuckle and Robyn's nipples press painfully against the thin padding of her bra. Shit, shit, shit.

“So. What brings you around the middle of the night, Dean?”

His name rolling off her lips feels so weird. Also, she doesn't want to look at him, because his presence is doing things to her and that's also the reason she really does want to look at him. So she's doing this very unsuspicious move of looking back and forth between him and her beer in 0.4 second intervals.  
Dean appears to consider his answer for a moment. Which makes Robyn think that there are either several reasons why he showed up in the middle of the night, while David is gone, or that there is only one, but one that Dean doesn't want to disclose.

“Like I said. We're here working this job and I honestly hope we finish it sooner or later, because the sick bastard has had way too many victims already, but that also means that Sam and I might be gone again in a few days. And it might not look like that to you but I don't wanna make the same mistake twice. So I thought this time, while I have the chance, I'll. You know. Communicate.”

Dean grimaces at the last word.

“And you picked the middle of the night for that?”

Again, Dean seems to wager his options and Robyn holds up a hand.

“No, honest answer now.” That has Dean sighing a bit and shifting in his chair.

“I wanted to talk to you alone. And I didn't – Or no, actually, I do know now that you... That David doesn't know who I am and I didn't wanna – Obviously, if you never mentioned me to your long-time dude friend you surely have a reason for it and I wasn't gonna just spill the tea, as they say.”

He pauses.

“I know he works late. Did he tell you that Sam and I came by the bar last night?”

Robyn nods and David has a sip of beer.

Yeah, David did tell her, the next afternoon, when they were eating pizza in bed. David had told about how awkward it was and asked her about Sam. But he didn't plan it well, he should've let her do the talking, instead he just recounted what Sam had said, so Robyn only had to nod and agree. David didn't seem to realize how fucking weird it was for such a young guy to claim he was friends with Robyn back in high school. But maybe David didn't realize that Sam is 3 years younger than her.

“Well, uh, yeah – I went again tonight, alone, and we talked for a bit... - Don't look at me like that, I just said I was off duty looking for a drink. Which was true.” Dean waves his beer as proof and the ring reflects back the ceiling lights.

“Can I ask you something?” Dean asks and Robyn nods.

“Are you guys happy?” There is that frown again. Robyn is surprised at his question. Where the hell does that come from? Did David say anything weird to him? While waiting for her reply Dean lifts the bottle to his mouth and drinks. There is something almost obscene at the way his lips hug the opening and it tugs at Robyn's groin.

“How honest and how long of an answer do you want?” Robyn asks back and Dean shrugs.

“However long it takes to tell me the truth.”

So Robyn does. About how they're usually very happy and in love, unless David gets one of his fits, fucks around and Robyn catches wind of it. Then it's utter shit for a few days before she recovers. And it's not like he is a bad boyfriend. If it weren't for the constant and never-ending cheating he would actually be pretty damn fantastic. Robyn also briefly mentions how David is the only one doing the cheating and how she intends to keep it that way. During her speech, Dean stays quiet, nodding here and there. As she finishes, they also finish their beers and Robyn makes a trip to the kitchen to bring a new supply.

“Can I ask you something now too?” Robyn asks, handing Dean a new bottle, their fingers brushing each other ever so slightly, but still enough to send new jolts of lightning down Robyn's spine right into her panties.  
And he does it again, this pornographic drinking thing. She doesn't even want to imagine what it looks like if he ate a Popsicle or sucked a Lollipop. There's a brief flash of a memory where she sees this very mouth closing around her nipple, sucking gently, in the back of the Impala.

“How long have you been married?” 

Dean shoots her a surprised look. Ha, surprise, you're not the only observant person in this room!

“Why do you think I'm married?” He asks and Robyn points loosely at his hand. He follows her gaze down, looks at his right hand like he's seeing it for the first time, turning it around and seeing the ring. He lets out a laugh and looks back at her. His eyes are a tiny bit crinkly around the corners. He already had an adorable smile at 18, but this is a very different level now. It suits him very well.

“Oh, that, yeah. No. Sam and I went on a vacation a few years ago and bought them on some county fair. We put them on as a joke and never took them off. So there's that. There's no wifey, waiting for me somewhere. And no girlfriend either, in case you're wondering. No one to make me pie.”

Robyn bursts out laughing at that.

“Oh, poor you! Why don't you come over again tomorrow again and I'll have a fresh cherry pie waiting for you?” Ok, wow, shit, what the hell was that, that was not what she wanted to say. At all. But now it's out there. Dean appears to be equally surprised himself, blinking at her, judging if she was joking or actually serious.

“Make it blueberry and you got yourself a deal.” Dean finally replies and Robyn nods slowly.

“How's the investigation going?” A desperate attempt to switch the subject, yes. But it works. Dean sighs.

“I don't know. We've only been here a day and the local cops are decent fellows, and we have long list and even a short list of suspects, but nothing's panning out yet. The fucker is still out there. So promise me you'll watch out, OK?” Dean's tone is serious and his facial expression matches it.   
Before it suddenly shifts into an almost shy grin. Dean scratches the back of his head, gives a little laugh and rolls his eyes before taking a few long drags of beer.

“What?” Robyn asks, shifting on the couch. She is ready to jump off this thing, fly over and climb his lap by now. It's as if he put her in a trance.

“This is just crazy. You and me sitting here, having a beer, just chatting about life. When my dad shoved us into that car I was absolutely sure I'd never see you again. Ever. And now look at us. Life's just fucking with us sometimes.”

“Yeah, I never thought it would take me finding a corpse to get you back into town.” Robyn replies and Dean seems taken aback at that.

“That's not what I said, or meant.” He says, tone strict like a father scolding a child. Holy shit, what would Robyn not give right now to receive a solid spanking from Dean. These hands certainly look like they could do some damage to her ass. Robyn sends a quick prayer upstairs to please not let Dean be a mind-reader.  
Dean throws a quick glance at his wrist watch.

“Ah, shit, it's getting late. I should get going, before your man comes home. He does not look like someone I wanna get in a fight with.” 

Robyn waves that off.

“He's just a giant teddy. But you're right.” So she downs the last of her beer and gets up from the couch. Dean follows suit and they walk into the hallway, back to the door. Dean, hand already on the knob, turns around to Robyn.

“I take your pie offering serious, by the way. So don't leave me hanging tomorrow.” He says and Robyn laughs.

“There's stuff I'd never joke about. Wanna be here at 10?” Robyn offers and Dean nods and opens the door. Robyn hangs back by the foot of the stairs, suddenly feeling the tiredness creep in. She's just stifling a yawn when Dean turns around again in the open door, comes back into the house and sweeps Robyn into a strong hug, pressing her against his body. Robyn instinctively gets up on her tippy-toes as she does with David even though it wouldn't be necessary with Dean as he's only maybe 4 inches taller than her, but that gives her the chance to turn her head and press her nose into his neck, inhaling as deeply as someone close to dying of asphyxiation. Good lord. Robyn is beyond horny.

“It's really good to see you again, kiddo.” Dean says into Robyn's golden curls and squeezes her one last time before letting go, turning around and marching right out without a word of good-bye.

Robyn closes the door behind him, looks up and checks the time. Not even 2 a.m. Might be another hour before David comes home.  
She gets her phone and sends him a text: “Still up, waiting for you. Starting without you in 15.”  
It takes David just under 25 minutes to come home. By then, Robyn is already in bed, dressed in a cream coloured silk nighty, twisting her nipples, stroking the periphery of her pussy, but refraining from touching anything interesting.

“Robyn?” David yells from downstairs.

“I'm in bed, get the fuck in here!” She yells back. Immediately she hears him coming up the stairs, two steps at a time, still wearing his shoes. A second later he is in the doorway, surveying the dimmed lights, Robyn's outfit and one of her hands on her boobs, the other hand having disappeared under the nighty.

“What the hell happened?” He asks, as little out of breath, while kicking off his shoes and stripping at an incredible and very impressive speed. 

“Nothing, I just – Come here, and give it to me. Like you mean it, David. I'm not gonna break.”

David stops dead in his tracks and just stares at her. He's down to only his t-shirt and while his face looks a bit shocked his cock looks more than ready. Robyn pulls her hand away from her pussy and uses it to pull up her nightdress She slowly spreads her legs and looks at David.

“Get. In here. Now.”


	10. Hot Blooded

David is sitting in bed, back against the wooden headrest, regarding Robyn, who is lying on her side, under the covers, looking back at him.

“So, what was that?” David asks, a small smile on his lips. Robyn shrugs and doesn't reply in any other way.  
“Well, something must have happened while I was gone.”

Robyn sighs. Men. When you want them to be attentive and observing they're not and when you want to brush shit under the carpet, they turn into some lovechild of Sherlock Holmes and Siegmund Freud all of a sudden. Seeing all the signs, reading stuff into everything, interpreting feverishly like a first semester English student.

“I saw a movie with some pretty decent sex scenes. And that made me a) horny and b) made me want you to be a little rougher with me tonight. You're always so careful with me.”

David raises his eyebrows.

“And that's a bad thing?” He asks, amused. Robyn rolls her eyes.

“No, not bad, just – I'd like to switch it up sometimes. You're not gonna impale me with your giant dick if you fuck me a bit rougher, you know.”

“I'm not exactly worried about that. Well, not literally. But I've had girls in the past who complained if I was too fast or too rough cause even if it's not giant as you put it, my dick isn't exactly small. And you're pretty tight to begin with. But it's – Listen, I'm strong. Very much so. And sometimes, if I'm into it too much, I get a little carried away and I don't wanna get too carried away and break a rib of yours.”

Robyn starts laughing.

“Wow, I didn't know you were actually afraid of breaking me in the literal sense. Did you ever hurt a girl during sex?”

David weighs his head back and forth and then nods.

“Yeah. Not badly. But I've been known to cause a solid bruise here and there.” He answers and Robyn grimaces at his choice of words.

“Been known to, huh? I mean, you do have built quite the reputation for yourself here.”

She expects some annoyed reaction from David but he holds her gaze.

“I've kept my promise, Robyn.” 

Robyn rolls her eyes and grunts.

“Wow. It's been what, 3 days? Plus... You know that fucking around doesn't only start when you insert your dick into a vagina?” Robyn is only shooting in the dark here and therefore is actually very much taken by surprise when David blushes.

“Damn, I was just joking, but looks like I hit a nerve. So, what happened, did you get sucked off by a chick, behind the bar?” 

David shakes his head and gets up from the bed.

“No, nothing like that. And you're right, I should quit all of it. But I'm done talking about this now, so I'm gonna go downstairs, watch some telly and – yeah. That's it.”

Naked as he is David struts his huge frame out of the bedroom and Robyn hears him rumbling down the stairs.

 

“Wow, you're home late.” Sam says, when the motel room door clicks shut, and switches on the little bedside light. Dean winces – he was hoping to get in unnoticed. Oh well.  
Dean kicks off his boots, takes off his jacket and throws it over a chair before dropping down on his bed. Sam is looking up at him with small, sleepy eyes and yawns.

“Where were you?” He asks and Dean sighs.

“The bar.” Sam raises an eyebrow but stays quiet. Just looking at him with those goddamn puppy eyes.

“I was – I was trying to figure out this David guy. And I did, cause he made out with some random chick, right there for everyone to see. He didn't even try to play it down or hide it, nope.”

Sam pushes his blanket down a little and pushes himself up on his elbows until he's sitting in bed, looking at his big brother.

“Yeah. That doesn't surprise me. He kinda seems like a very nice, but massive douchebag to me.” Sam replies and Dean nods.

“So, um, yeah, I left after that cause I thought if I didn't I might jump over the bar and rip out his giant lungs. They're probably as big as tents.”

Sam snorts at that comment, nodding.

“Yeah, good call. Cause, no offense Dean, but David looks like he might rip you into confetti, not the other way around.”

Dean stays silent and Sam regards him for a minute.

“Don't look at me like that, Sammy.” Dean groans.

But Sammy keeps looking until Dean throws up his hands in defense.

“What?!” He half-yells, his voice taking on that typical higher pitch it always does when Dean is trying to defend something he knows damn well is wrong.

“Dean, what are you doing?” Sam asks, calmly. Yeah, good fucking question.

“Nothing. I'm doing nothing, Sammy. I went by Robyn's after to tell her but then I saw her and – I couldn't. So we just talked for a bit and I left. That's all. She told me they have a sort of open relationship but it turns out that he's the only one who's open and she's fucking hating it. God, I never understand why – Anyway. It's her life.”

“I just want you to not do anything stupid, Dean. Everything we do has consequences. Now that we're on this subject: You've lied to me. About how things ended between Robyn and you. You always told me that it was never really serious and that you sent her letter later, explaining why we left and where we were. You always made it sound like it was her who didn't get back to you. But I know you and I'm not stupid and I can see how you look at her and she at you and it's also pretty obvious that you despise David. So, do me the honor of telling me what really happened back then.”

Ah, shit.

“OK, maybe I wasn't fully honest about everything. We were – We were pretty serious.”

Dean stops himself, swallowing, his mind being drawn back to that last night.

“How serious?” Sam asks and Dean smiles, sourly.

“Serious enough for us to tell each other the three words and for me to almost take her virginity. On the last night in this fucking town.”

Sam gives a low whistle and Dean knows he is shocked to hear this. To his knowledge Dean so far only had one serious relationship. But Dean and Cassie were doomed to fail from the very beginning. They didn't do much else beside fighting and making up and in the bedroom, for about 8 months, 2 years ago.

“What happened?”

“Well... Like I said, I almost... You probably remember that she and I spent a lot of time, and we did. She was such an awesome, cool girl. Hell, she still is. She hasn't changed a bit. Anyways, we were full-on dating, she met Dad, I met her parents, yada yada. So that night we were out, just fooling around, when she wanted to take things to the next level and – At first, I didn't – I didn't wanna make her feel like she had to, or whatever, so I wanted to resist, but – You know me. Give me a hot and willing chick and my free will is out the door. So we got going, but she kinda freaked and asked me to stop and of course I did and I wasn't mad at all and – I mean, that was fucking ages ago, but I'm still absolutely sure that I, for once in my life, actually didn't react like a complete asshole. So instead I drove her home, we said good-bye like always, I went home to Dad and you, and that's when he told us we had to pack up immediately.”

Sam nods at the memory, a sympathetic expression on his face.

“I had her address and phone number written down, but... I don't know, man. I must've picked up the phone a billion times, started 100 letters, but I couldn't go through with it. I – I was really fucking hurting back then. So, I decided it would be better off for me and also for her if I just completely disappeared out of her life. And I did. So, that's the truth right here. Dad fucked up a lot of shit for us, some minor, some major, but him taking Robyn away from me is something I'll never... Forget.”

Dean is honestly surprised at how telling Sam about all of this is making him feel. It's like he's right back in the Impala, in the early hours of the morning after, already 500 miles away from this town and from Robyn. Back then he was torn between a sadness that tugged at his heart hard enough for him to fear it might rip apart, and a rage so intense that he wanted to tear his father's head off.  
The feelings are a lot less intense now, thanks to just plain time healing everything, but still very much tangible.

“All right, so, what's the plan?” Sam asks after a little while and Dean shrugs.

“There's no plan. I'm just taking it day by day. She knows we're leaving as soon as this case is done.”

“Just – Be careful. With her. And yourself.” Sam says quietly and locks in on Dean's eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, Oprah. Go back to sleep now. I've had enough deep fucking talks for one night.”

Without even taking his shirt or his jeans off Dean crawls under his covers and is out within seconds.

 

A few minutes after David leaves the house at 7 p.m. Robyn gets in her car, drives over to Walmart and buys 2 pounds of fresh Canadian blueberries, vanilla ice-cream, a few six-packs of beer and – A thought crosses her mind as she walks past the drugstore section and she leaves her cart in the main isle as she walks into the next row. She feels like giggling when she grabs a box of condoms, walks back to her cart and throws them in, making her way to the registers. This is insane. Completely insane.

She knows David always has condoms at home and in his car and at the bar – but what if she needs one and takes it from his stash and they're counted off? No, that's a risk she won't take. She knows a few places where David would never look for anything. She'll keep them there. If she never needs them, they can stay there until they expire. But if she does... Well, then they're there,

She pays for her stuff, constantly looking around herself, scared of running into anybody, as if it was bad to buy condoms as a 26 year old. But Robyn doesn't, so she bags her shit, walks back to her car, drives home and starts baking Dean his blueberry pie.

Robyn is close to shitting herself when the clock starts ticking closer to 10 p.m. Nervous enough to be on her third gin and tonic when there is a strong knock on the door.  
Robyn is silently whispering to herself to calm the fuck down when she gets up, does down the hallway and opens up the front door.

Dean is in jeans and a black and white flannel shirt, it's still warm enough out to be able to go out without a jacket. He smiles down at her and gives her a little wave and Robyn is almost unable to function. She herself is dressed in Jeans and a plain white t-shirt, having stood in front of her closet for half an hour, figuring out what would look good and cute but not like she spent half an hour picking her outfit. The jeans show off her full ass and the white is a good contrast to her tanned skin and golden hair.

“Hey.” Dean says, looks over her shoulder and sniffs the air, face splitting into a wide grin.

“Damn, that smells fucking fantastic.”

Robyn laughs, trapped air escaping her, calming her down a little. She steps to the side.

“Come on in, I haven't made a blueberry pie in ages, I hope you like it.”

Dean laughs as he comes in and Robyn closes the door behind him.

“Don't worry Robyn, I like all pies.”

Dean follows Robyn into the kitchen and she feels his eyes on her back, but when she turns around to him he is just looking around the kitchen and nodding. Approving.

“Cozy!” He says and flashes her a bright, white-teethed grin. She rolls her eyes and motions to the dining table.

“Do you want yours a la mode?” Robyn asks as Dean is dropping down on one of the chairs. The one David is always sitting in. While Dean is weighing his options, Robyn is taking in the scene. It is so fucking weird. Dean Winchester sitting at her dining table, in David's chair, waiting for her to feed him goddamn blueberry pie.

“Yes. But put it on the side!” Dean orders and Robyn nods and get out plates and the cutlery.

She's put music on before he arrived, to calm her nerves and it's still on now. A Greatest Blues Hits Album. Dean's right foot is tapping on the ground in sync with the beat and Robyn needs to forcefully take her attention away from that and to the pie. She carefully cuts it onto 8 slices and lifts out a slice for each of them. Next to Dean's she plops a scoop of ice-cream, then she grabs the bowl of cream she's whipped earlier and waves it around. Dean squints his eyes at it, then opens them wide and nods.

“Hell yeah. A woman who cares less about cholesterol than I do. Give it. To me.” He says with a wide grin and actually. Licks his lips. Ok then. Robyn's panties feel wet already and she hasn't even seen him do his thing to the beer bottle.   
So she slaps some freshly whipped cream on his ice-cream and also next to her own slice, puts the ice-cream back in the freezer and walks over to the table with the two plates.

"What do you wanna drink?" Robyn asks and takes a surprised double take at Dean's answer.

"Do you have coffee?" She blinks at him and nods, walks back and gets the coffee maker going. While it's running through, she puts cutlery on the table and her half-drunk gin and tonic and clears her throat.

"So, Dean. Tell me a bit about you. Like, how the hell did you come up with the idea of becoming an FBI agent?"


	11. The Thrill is Gone

“What can I get you to drink?” She asks, as she puts the pie down. Dean sighs, rubbing his eyes.

“Actually, I'd kill for a good coffee right about now.”

All right – so no getting wasted tonight. At least not for Dean. Robyn is almost equally relieved and disappointed. She nods and walks back to the kitchen counter, turning on her fancy Nespresso coffee maker (there was no talking David out of this thing) and while she waits for it to heat up she fixes herself a fresh gin and tonic, all fancy with a little rosemary twig.

“Wow, you actually like that stuff? Always tasted like pine needles soaked in booze to me.” Dean remarks and Robyn shrugs.

“Yeah, well, I can't stand Whiskey. That, to me, tastes like window washing liquid. I just likes David's ancient and pricey as fuck Scotch, but that stuff's only for special occasions.”

Robyn grabs a coffee mug out of the cabinet and puts it under the nozzle.

“What kind of coffee do you like?” As she turns around she just catches him licking his index finger and as she looks down at his place she can see that a large portion of the whipped cream has magically disappeared. Dean's expression doesn't betray any emotion.

“Um, strong?” He replies and Robyn nods and pops a dark blue pod into the machine and presses the button. The machine hisses, hums and gurgles for a few seconds, then Robyn grabs the steaming mug, her long-drink glass and the cream jug and walks over to the table, sitting down opposite of Dean.

“All right, dig in!” 

Dean obviously only waited for this command as he jams the fork that he was holding already into the pie. He rakes the piece through the soft ice cream and the rest of his whipped cream before shoving it into his mouth, closing his eyes as he chews. A low moan comes out of his almost fully closed mouth, as he opens his eyes again, letting them roll.

“Holy mother of God. This is heaven, right here.” He says, a dead-serious tone in his gravelly voice, after swallowing. Within seconds his slice is half gone and only when he grabs the jug of cream to reload Robyn is able to focus hard enough on her own hands to start eating her serving.

It takes Dean just under an hour to finish the whole thing, save the two slices that Robyn ate. And, amazingly, he was talking the whole time. About the high school they went to in Washington after they had left here, about how he got into the FBI and just life in general.  
Honestly, Robyn could listen to Dean and that voice all night long, and longer. The rough scratch in it, the way his voice gets to a higher pitch when tells a funny story, his low chuckles, him licking his lips in between sentences, the shiny white smile he flashes when he talks about Sam.  
This is all too much. Robyn is on her fourth gin and tonic and has no clue what the hell she is doing here. This is all a mistake. Nothing good can possibly come out of this. Dean will be leaving in a few days and she will be back to David and she will be more miserable than ever.

Dean stops the story he was telling, about the first case he and Sam worked together a few months ago, to ask Robyn what she was thinking about.

“Huh, sorry?” Robyn asks and Dean leans back in his chair, regarding her.

“You just kinda spaced out. Where did your mind go?” He doesn't smile with his mouth, but there are tiny crinkles around his eyes, suggesting his good mood.

“I don't... This is just so weird right now.” Robyn says, sighing. Dean doesn't reply, obviously waiting for her to go on.

“The whole situation, I mean. I never thought I would ever see you again, let alone in these circumstances. And even if I ever let myself think that, it was so different in my mind. I'm freaked out by how much you're still like back then and how it's – Like you were never gone.”

Dean looks down at his hands at that, now smiling, but looking a little sad while doing so.

“Yeah, I getcha. You know, when I fantasized about seeing you again, it certainly never involved you living with King Kong.” 

That gets a little laugh from Robyn.

“Fantasizing about me, huh?” She asks and Dean's head stays hung low, but his smile gets wider and just his eyes turn towards her before he straightens up again.

“What do you think, I was a horny teenager and our last night was pretty... You know... Exciting!”

When their eyes meet both of them don't look away for too long. Robyn can feel it being too long. She is being pulled towards him, so she physically grabs the sides of her chair, anchoring herself, holding on, not letting her get swept away by the tide. 

“Robyn, I gotta tell you something.” Dean finally says, serious again, something twitching in his left jaw. Robyn takes a big swig of her drink.

“I was at the bar, David's bar, and... Damn, I didn't wanna tell you, but this is not right. No matter what kind of fucked up agreement you two have. He made out with some chick, right there in the open, for everyone to see. Tongue and everything. And he was really into it, not looking at all remorseful. Lemme tell you, it took all I had to not rip his goddamn head off.”

Robyn can tell that he is being very serious. And she is disappointed at what he's telling her but she's also not surprised. She would have been a lot more surprised to learn that he actually kept his promise for more than a week. She just nods at his revelation.

“Robyn, what the fuck are you doing with the guy?” He asks, and Robyn sighs.

“I know it's hard for you to understand. Or for anyone, really. But I really love him. And I know he really loves me, no matter what he does. And I'm just not all out of hope yet, you know? I still hope that one day he'll have fucked around on me enough, and settle down, with me. He's super supportive to me and funny, and smart, and protective, and fucking sexy and awesome. So, that's that.”

“Yeah, all that I get, but – Everyone saw him. And I'm sure they know you two are together. He makes a fool out of you and you let him.”

Robyn downs her drink and get up to fix a new one.

“Got anything else apart from that Pinesol?” Dean asks behind her and she chuckles.  
“Beer's in the fridge.” She replies and hears the chair creaking as he gets up, his heavy steps on the wooden floor going over to the fridge, door opening, bottles clinking, door closing.  
She throws a glance over her shoulder and sees him pop the lid with his silver ring.  
So she focuses back on her drink, splashing some tonic water into her gin filled crystal glass and when she turns around, opening her mouth to ask Dean about the progress on the case, he is right behind her. Close enough for her to smell his laundry detergent on his shirt and a low whiff of after-shave. She flinches, the breath catching in her throat, almost spilling half of her drink on the floor. Dean is so close that when Robyn takes a deep breath to refill her lungs, her chest almost touches his.

Dean just looks down at her, his eyes moving rapidly over her face, always focusing back on her lips, before wandering off again. He sets his bottle down on the counter behind her, then reaches for her glass, pulls it from her hand and sets it down next to his bottle.

Robyn's heart is pounding so fast and so loud that she is absolutely certain Dean can hear it. She is frozen into a pillar of salt. Dean shifts his weight, his upper body leaning in even closer, his throat moving as he swallows, his gaze now strictly focusing on her eyes.   
Good god. Don't move, Robyn, don't move. Wait it out. He'll step back when he gets thirsty enough for that ice-cold beer.  
Don't give in. Don't give in.

The thrill is gone by BB King is playing in the background.

Don't give in.

The fridge is humming faintly.

Don't. Give. In. 

Dean's personal smell mixes with the faint blueberry pie aroma that's still hanging in the kitchen.

Don't give in, Robyn, don't.

Dean's lip part, just ever so slightly, as he breathes in again, staring straight into her soul through her eyes. He is so close now, she could count his freckles. Or his lashes. But that would take too long, they're too many.   
She knows what he's doing. Back in the Impala, he gave in too quickly and pressured her into something she didn't really want back then. So now he's being very clear about what he wants but he lets her come the last step. Smart man. She stares back at him, wondering how many hours and days this will go on for. Robyn steels herself then, looking left and right to see where she can squeeze past him. She has goosebumps all over, her nipples are hard, her underwear wet. It's hard work not to start shivering. Left looks good, Robyn thinks, and lifts her head to gauge Dean's state, when his tongue moves forward, to just slightly lick his top lip and when his tongue moves back into his mouth the lip folds in and Dean catches it with his front teeth, letting it go slowly.

Robyn lets out a moan as both her hands shoot out, one grabbing Dean by the t-shirt, pulling him in to her the last inches, the other grabbing the soft, short hairs on the nape of his neck, pulling his head down towards her and then her mouth is on his, biting the spot in his lower lip where his teeth just were and then his tongue is inside her mouth and she moans again and if she could she would crawl into him to be close to him. Dean steadies himself with one hand over her head against the kitchen cabinet, the other one snakes into her hair, grabbing a handful of soft, golden curls, trapping her. His right leg moves forward a little, between her knees as they keep on making out like their lives depend on it, and Robyn sinks down on it a little, enjoying the sweet pressure of his hard thigh against her crotch. Dean must have registered this as he pushes back with his thigh into her and she starts sweating.  
He seems to have the same wish as she does, because Dean too presses against her closer and closer, his mouth tasting sweet of blueberries and cream, his stubbles scratching her chin.

Robyn honestly doesn't have the slightest idea of how long this went on for before she lets go of him, plants both her hands flat on his chest and firmly pushes him back. He lets out a small groan but doesn't resist. When Robyn opens her eyes and looks, Dean's lips are glistening and red, and his eyes are big and sparkly. His chest moves up and down and Robyn doesn't need to cast her gaze lower, she could feel him getting hard against her before.

They both catch their breath for a few moments before Robyn speaks, voice croaky.

“We can't do this here.” 

Dean nods slowly, he looks a little dazed, or high.

“Yeah, you're right.” He finally says and his tone is even lower and rougher than it usually is and it forces something out of Robyn that is somewhere between a tiny yelp and a moan.

Robyn glances over to the clock on the wall. Nearly twelve. Shit. She looks back to Dean, who is adjusting the crotch of his jeans and sighs.

“We have to postpone. I gotta clean up here before David comes home.”

Dean nods again, and blinks a few time, trying to get back down to mother earth from whatever sphere he is currently floating in. He makes a step forward, grabs his now lukewarm beer off the counter, sets it to his lips – and they're doing their thing again and Robyn's clit damn near starts pulsating at the sight of this and Dean's small adam's apple bobbing as he downs the whole bottle in one go. Blushing, Robyn grabs her own drink and gulps it down eagerly.

Dean lets the now empty bottle sink and puts it on the counter.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Dean asks and Robyn shakes her head.

“It's David's night off. I can't.” 

Dean's eyes narrow and he nods, then he points at her.

“Ok. But this is not over.”

In one long stride he is back against her, taking her head in both his hands and gives her a hard kiss on the lips, before removing himself, turning around and walking out of the kitchen without turning around again.

Robyn stands frozen for a few seconds, hearing the front door open and close, hearing steps down the porch, then the driver door of the Impala creaking open and banging shut, the motor starting and the car driving off. As she is sure to be alone she quic kly unbuttons her jeans, shoving her right hand inside of her underwear, finding her clit and Robyn comes undone within seconds, holding onto the counter with her free hand, almost-yelling out Dean's name.  
She stands there for a minute or two, not moving, eyes closed, breathing heavily, before she pulls out her hand and closes up her pants.

Shit shit shit.


	12. Sin' A Good Man's Brother

Robyn's phone has already been buzzing for a few seconds when she hangs up her main phone to answer her cell.

“Hey, mom.” Robyn says and leans back in her office chair.

“Hey, honey. I was just calling in to see how you were holding up.” Robyn's mom's voice is sympathetic and warm, even through her phone's tiny speakers.

“I had a few days off to... Recover, or whatever the right word would be for this. Today's my first day back at work. I'm fine.” Robyn says and looks out the window to the office's main parking lot. It's another beautiful, sunny day and Robyn actually doesn't mind being back at work. It distracts her from what happened last week, the whole serial killer business, David, Dean, just everything.

“That's nice that they gave you some time off. So what happens now, are you an official witness?”

“I guess, yeah, they asked me not to leave town in case they need to questions me again.”

Robyn's mom seems to hesitate before asking her next question.

“Who are they? The sheriff's office?”

“Yes, them, and also the FBI. They're looking for a serial killer, so they brought in the big guns.” Robyn replies and her mother stays quiet for a long moment, as if expecting Robyn to go on. She fiddles with her rollerball pen, suspecting what's coming next.

“So – I met Marjory at Walmart yesterday and we got to talking and she told me that Jen ran into Dean Winchester the other day, at the gas station, and that he's with the FBI.”

Ah, shit.

“Why didn't you tell me he was back in town? Did you talk to him?”

Shit, shit.

“Well... I didn't think it was a big deal. He and his brother questioned me and we had a little small talk, and... That's it.”

Wow, very smooth, Robyn.

“How was it? How is he?”

Goddamn, this interrogation is a lot worse than the one after she found the body.

“It was all right, mom. We had a talk, it's fine. He's – Dean's - Well, he's just plain gorgeous, that's what he is, if you must really know.”

Her mother gave a little chuckle at that remark.  
“Well, that not really news though. When he first walked into our house I knew he was gonna be trouble for you. He was certainly the most handsome kid I've ever seen, that's for certain. So, you talked it out?”

“Yeah, we did, it's all good. Mom, I gotta get back to work-”

Her mother interrupted her, she was obviously not quite done yet.

“And how's David?”

Ah, Robyn should've known. She sighs, heavily and throws the pen against her monitor.

“Working a lot, as usual, you know the drill, mom. It's all good. Mom, I really need to get back to work.”

“Well, tell him to keep the cheating to a private space and out of the bar, all right?” Her tone is sharp.

“God, mom, I know you hate him, just -”

“No, Robyn, I don't hate him, at all, quite the opposite, actually. I just hate what's he doing to you and I hate that you let it happen, over and over again. I'ma let you back to work now. Bye, love.”

And with that she hangs up the phone. Jesus Christ. What a pleasure.

She puts her cell phone on mute, drops it in her purse, puts on her headset, clears her throat and dials the next number.

 

When she gets home that night, she is resolute. This shit can't go on. Of course she won't be able to go back to exactly how its was before she found the body but she can put a stop to some things. Set it on reverse. Make it go away.  
David is still asleep, as per usual. Robyn drops her purse on one of the kitchen chairs, fishes out her phone and looks for Dean's number. After he left last night, she saved his number in his phone and threw away the business card.  
It rings twice before the call is picked up.

“This is Dean Winchester.”

Deep, steady breath, Robyn. You can do this.

“Hey, Dean, it's me, Robyn.” After saying this, Robyn quickly listens into the house. All quiet. Good.

“Oh, heya. Hold on a sec.” Dean says, sounding strictly business. There are faint noises in the background, phones ringing. He must be at the sheriff's office. She hears him walking and breathing, opening doors and then it's more quiet and she hears birds chirping.

“All right. What's up?” Dean says and Robyn musters up all her strength.

“Listen. I'm a main witness and I know that means we'll probably have to see each other again, but unless it's for the case – I can't do this. Again. And I hope you respect this. So, yeah. That's all. Bye -”

She doesn't even finish her last word before Dean interrupts her.

“Whoa, whoa, hold up, kiddo. What's going on?” Impossibly, his voice sounds even richer on the phone. What the hell has he done to make it sound like that? How many gallons of Whiskey ran down it, how much smoke was inhaled, how many times did he yell his lungs out?

“Nothing's going on. I just. The past week has been insane and I need to figure shit out and you're not helping. Quite the opposite, actually. So. I can't do anything about finding that dead woman, I can't do a lot about being cheated on, but I can do something about you. So I am. Sorry.”

Dean is silent on the other end of the line, just the birds are chirping. Robyn's hard is pumping so fast and she feels dizzy.

“Listen, Robyn.” Dean's voice has dropped dangerously low.

“I don't know what's going with you right now, but you're not dropping shit like this on me over the goddamn phone. We're still on for tonight and we'll talk about it.”

While Dean is talking Robyn's face is flushing with heat and she hears sounds coming from the bedroom, the door squeaking open, heavy, naked feet on the wooden floor down the hall, coming towards her.

“Um, actually, I'm sorry, but that won't work for me. Can we reschedule to tomorrow and I come by the sheriff's department?” Robyn says loudly and she can almost hear Dean fuming on the sheriff's parking lot.

“Well, I'm sorry but that won't work for me. I'm coming by tonight and you'll tell it to my face.”

And the line goes dead.

“Oh, ok, yeah, 9 is fine. See you then.” 

She locks the screen just as David comes up behind her, hugging her to his naked body, showering her neck with butterfly kisses.

“Hey, sunshine.” He murmurs into her hair. Robyn leans into the embrace, closing her eyes, inhaling David's bed scent, feeling his late night morning wood on her lower back.

“Another FBI questioning?” David asks and Robyn nods.

“Yeah, they need to get over some questions again, so I'll go in in the morning. Hey, I'm beat, I'm gonna take a bath. When you are you taking off?”

Robyn turns around to David and looks up to him. Neon green laser eyes looking back down at her, still a little sleepy, slow smile on his lips, full 10 day beard. She needs to make this work, somehow.

“I guess around 8ish. I'll go run that bath for you, lovely.”

Taking her face in both of his giant shovel hands he bends down and gives her a soft kiss. He gives her two more before letting go of her and walking back to the bathroom. A few seconds later she can hear the water rushing into the bath tub.  
Robyn will just lock all the doors and draw all the blinds and put her headphones on she won't notice if Dean shows up. Or rather, when he shows up. He did sound very determined. 

On her way into the bathroom Robyn strips out of her clothes, just leaving them on the floor, padding naked into the steamy bathroom, where David is brushing his teeth. The tub is almost full already and David has dropped one of those sickly sweet pink bath bombs in there that Robyn loves so much. She grabs her towel from the rack and puts it on closed toilet lid next to the bath tub before feeling the water temperature. Perfect.   
Robyn turns off the water and carefully climbs into the tub, sighing as the hot water surrounds her. She gets settled in, covering herself in sweet smelling, crinkly foam and looks over to watch David squirt gel in his hands, rub them together and rake both hands through his thick, black hair, so that it's loosely held over his head.

“David.” Robyn says and David looks over, washing off the gel.

“Yeah, what's up.”

“I'm gonna bring something up, and be real calm about it and I just want to discuss it with you. Calmly.”

David towels off his hands and turns around to her, facing her in just his underwear. God, there is so much meat on this man, and muscle.

“You promised me you were going to make an effort. And if what I heard is true that only lasted for 2 days, before you stuck your tongue in another chick, at the bar. So, I just wanna know where you stand right now. Where your head is. While you couldn't do it for longer.”

Robyn's tone is indeed very calm and she is quite surprised at that. The first sweat beads are forming on her hairline.  
David looks incredibly uncomfortable in his own skin, which is rare.

“I don't have an answer for that.” David replies, sounding defeated. 

“OK. This is all really scratching on my ego. Like, seriously. I don't know how much longer I can do this without feeling an ugly, shitty toad. So. What would you say if I started doing the same?”

David blinks at her, slowly, narrowing his eyes.

“Do what?”

“Start seeing other guys. I'm obviously not enough you and, quite frankly, you're not enough for me right now. Not honest enough, not loyal enough, not enough will-power, not giving me enough love. So like you, I wanna get it from somewhere else.”

Robyn watches as all the colour drains from David's tanned face.

“Don't look at me like that, I'm just stating the facts. I still love you, so much, and I wanna make it work with you and that's why I need to make some changes. Listen. Let's wait another week and see how it goes. Maybe you'll manage to steer clear of other chicks this time and be more loyal to me. And if not, we'll see what we can do. OK?”

Still Robyn's voice is very even, calm, and collected, She can't believe it. And judging from the look on David's face, he can't either.

“Do you want me to stay home tonight?” He asks, and his damn voice is actually shaking.

Hell no, Robyn doesn't want carnage. Again.

“No, I don't want you to coo over me, I just want you to make good choices. So go to work and come back and try not to fuck anyone else in between. And gimme a kiss before you go.”

Robyn wriggles her index finger to him and he comes over, unsure of himself, of his steps, supports himself on the edge of the tub and leans down, kissing Robyn. She flicks her tongue across his bottom lip and his flicks back at hers, before he stands up again.

He looks at her one last time, good and hard, before exiting the bath, sighing deeply, shutting the door behind him. Robyn closes her eyes and sinks deeper inter bath, until her ears are covered.

 

It's after 1 a.m. when Jen comes into the bar, as usual in her scrubs, looking for and finding a vacant seat at the bar.

“Wow, you look like shit.” She says as a greeting to David who is stacking clean glasses on the shelf.

“Gee, Jen, ever so kind! It was just – A weird day. What can I get you?” David replies and Jen sighs, ordering a Vodka tonic.

David and Jen shoot the shit for a while, as they always do, talking about everything and nothing, also as usual, when the door opens and Sam Winchester walks in. The bar isn't crowded at this time on a weekday and he's as giant and gangly as a moose, so he's not necessarily easy to overlook.  
He comes over to the bar and as Jen turns around to see what or who David is looking at a smile spreads across Sam's face, producing two deep dimples in his cheeks.

“Wow, I can't believe it, Jen Meyer! In the flesh!”

Well, this kid sure knows everyone in this town.

“Sam Winchester! Look at you! Jesus Christ! You've quadrupled in size!” 

Jen gets up from her stool and the two of them embrace. David sets Jen's drink on the counter and a beer for Sam while they chat for a few minutes and finally sit down at the bar, still yapping away, recounting their lives to each other.  
Jen also asks Sam about the case, to which he replies that he can't disclose any information, unfortunately but that they're following leads.

“What do you need Robyn for?” David asks, pouring himself a Whisky. Sam furrows his brows, setting his beer down.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, she was on the phone earlier to someone from the department, about an appointment tomorrow morning?” David supplies but Sam shrugs.

“Not that I know of, but the sheriff does a lot of work on his own, so who knows what they want from her.”

David nods, slowly, and sips on his booze. Jen slaps Sam's thigh and wriggles her eyebrows at him.

“So, where's that drop-dead gorgeous brother of yours?” She asks and Sam gives a low chuckle, shaking his head.

“Not here, apparently! He went out a few hours ago. He would sure love to meet you – Oh no, hold on, didn't you two run into each other last week?” Sam asks, smiling and all of a sudden David sees a flicker of emotion on Jen's face, going from happy and relaxed to guarded and on edge and David, for a split second, thought he saw Jen squeezing Sam's leg, but he seems oblivious to whatever is going on in her head.”

“No? At the gas station?”

It's not that David is stupid, just sometimes thing take a little longer for him. Right now, he is staring at Jen who is staring at Sam, ever so slightly shaking her head and his brain is rattling away, setting puzzle pieces together.

That weird scene when David first met the agents at their house. Sam knowing everyone in this town. Robyn having changed in the last week, talking about wanting to see other men. That phone call earlier tonight that obviously was not to the FBI. That weird night the past weekend when Robyn texted him to get home and basically fuck her into oblivion at 2 a.m. This remark about how Jen ran into Dean at the gas station the other week. You could call that a pit stop, no? Robyn knowing about David making out with Casey, when the only person at the bar that David is certain Robyn knows is Dean. Robyn not wanting David home tonight.

Dean not being here.

It all clicks into place. David's heart stops dead in his chest, before hammering away at an impossible speed.

“So, Jen, how you know Sam?” David asks, voice slightly shaking, for the second time tonight.

Sam's brows furrow, his forehead in crinkles, then his brows shoot up, his mouth forming an O, realizing he really put his foot on it.  
Jen staring at David, panicking. Making a decision. Sighing, taking a deep breath.

“Sam's older brother Dean was in our class. I went out with Dean a couple of times.” Jen says, barely loud enough for David to understand her over the music. Sam's lip are pressed into a thin line.

“And – Then Robyn and Dean. Were. Together.”

“So Dean's... The first house.” David states evenly and Jen slowly nods.

David pulls the dish towel from his shoulder and throws it on the bar, grabbing his car keys off the back counter.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck” Sam mutters, pulling out his phone, as David wordlessly walks out behind the bar, through the guestroom and out the door.

“Fuck, Dean's phone is ringing endlessly.” Sam says and looks at Jen, who looks back at him with plain panic in her eyes.


	13. Heartache Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somebody's gonna hurt someone before the night is through.  
> Somebody's gonna come undone; there's nothin' we can do  
> Everybody wants to touch somebody, if it takes all night  
> Everybody wants to take a little chance, make it come out right  
> There's gonna be a heartache tonight, a heartache tonight I know
> 
> Lord, I know.
> 
> Eagles/Heartache Tonight

David left the house at 5 p.m. and by 7 p.m. Robyn was drunk. Hammered. Plastered. Shitfaced.  
Many Gin Tonics and many beers went into this. Even a prosecco in a can. Yes. No shame in that.  
By 8 she decided it might be a good idea to slow down for a bit. She knew Dean was coming tonight, he wouldn't be convinced otherwise and while she did not want to face him even a tiny bit sober she also didn't want to puke on his sneakers after opening the door for him.  
So she paced herself. Gulped down a large, cold ginger ale and nibbled on some Saltines she found in a cupboard.

Honestly, Robyn had no idea what was going to happen. The possibilities were endless. Dean not showing up wasn't really an option, but he might come over to talk it out and leave for good. Or he might give her some speech about fate, love, a dead body bringing them together again etc etc. Or he might tell her that she's a two-faced bitch who doesn't know what she wants.  
Or they might bang on the kitchen table. All very possible.   
And all of that might last seconds, minutes or hours. So if she's too drunk, it won't be good, for either of them or the situation in general. So ginger ale it is.

But when it knocks at just after half past eight all those gins haven't fully left Robyn's bloodstream yet, so she is still pleasantly buzzed when she gets up from her spot on the couch and shuffles through the hallway to the door. Wearing dark blue leggings and a flowy grey tank top. Nothing too sexy. One can never be too sure around men like... Men.

She grabs the knob, and takes a strong breath like she does at the gym before lifting the really heavy weights and pulls open the door.  
And there's Dean, looking like a snack. In jeans and just a burgundy coloured t-shirt. No long sleeves, no multiple layers of anything. It looks plain pornographic, if she's being honest. The burgundy perfectly compliments his hazel eyes and makes them sparkle even more, but not too much, because Dean looks pretty serious.

“Hey.” Robyn manages, holding on to the door for safety purposes. Dean's forehead crinkles.

“Hey yourself. Are you drunk?” He asks and Robyn shrugs and nods at the same time.

“Well, not too much, but, you know, yeah, probably a little. Bit.”

Robyn Shakespeare right there.

“So... Did you wanna come in and talk it out, or what's the plan here?” She asks when he doesn't say anything and he rolls his eyes, obviously pissed off at her. Which makes her shrink back a little.

“Yeah, I did wanna talk, but I don't wanna come in right now, you're fucked. So we're gonna grab something to eat for you, to soak up whatever you poured into yourself and when you're a bit more clear-minded we can have a chat. Put on your shoes.” 

Dean nods at her naked feet and she nods back, pulling on her flip flops, grabbing her keys from the hook by the door and stepping out into the balmy evening, pulling the door shut behind her.

Quiet, they walk over to the Impala that's parked in the driveway, her black hood ticking faintly and Dean doesn't even hold the door for her, he just gets in the driver's seat and waits for her to sit next to him before turning the key and awaking the beast beneath their butts.

“What do you feel like?” Dean asks after heading towards downtown and Robyn shoots him a weird look. What the hell kind of question is that? Does he think she's gonna puke on his cracked leather seats?   
Dean sighs audibly.

“Food, Robyn. What do you feel like, food-wise. Pizza, burgers, what?”

Robyn giggles.

“Oh, yeah, sure, sorry. I could really go for a burger and fries right about now.”

So they do. Nothing's really changed in this town in the last years and it's just as well because Dean knows where to go without having Robyn to tell him. After a few minutes of silent driving they pull into the parking lot of the same diner they've been to a hundred times back when they were still dating, sharing french fries and strawberry milkshakes.

Again he doesn't hold her door, he just gets out and stalks off towards to entrance of the diner without even waiting for her. Wow, fun times with Dean Winchester.

Robyn follows him inside and slides into a booth across from him. It's warm and a little muggy inside, not too packed, the strong scents of fried and double-fried food wafting out from the pick-up window to the kitchen. Dean picks up two large, laminated menus and takes one for himself but puts it right down again.

“What?” Robyn asks and Dean waves it off.

“Already know what I want.” He says and Robyn smiles and puts hers away as well.

“Same.” She replies and Dean nods and waves for the waitress. Who also has not changed. Annie looks down at them, then to her notepad, then her eyes grow big and she looks back at them.

“Well, I'll be damned. Robyn Anderson and Dean Winchester in my diner, together. Now that's something I thought I'd never see again.” She says and Dean nods, before Robyn can even think of anything to say.

“Yeah, well, that makes three of us, then. Would you get us two large strawberry milkshakes, one with the cherry on top, on without, two large curly fries, a regular cheese burger and a double bacon cheese burger?” 

Annie is furiously scribbling away at her notepad, tongue poking out of her pursed lips while Dean recites and Robyn's smile grows wider. Maybe she shouldn't kick him out of her life. He'll be gone in a few days anyways, why cause a scene now?

“Coming right up, kids!” Annie says and swivels around on the heels of her neon green crocs.

Dean folds his hands over the cream-coloured tabletop and looks at Robyn.

“So, what's going on in that head of yours?” He asks finally. Robyn starts playing with her menu, distracting herself from Dean.

“Ugh, there's too much going on in there right now, to be honest. It's getting too much for me, seriously. I have a job I need to be good at cause I need to pay a ton of bills, I have a boyfriend that I really love but who constantly betrays me, there's a serial killer on the loose in our town, I found a dead body and am now in the middle of all this serial killer business and on top of all of that my first real boyfriend pops up out of nowhere, hasn't changed a teenzy tiny bit and tells me that everything I believed about him since he left is actually completely wrong. I can't cope with all of this. So I need to cut some of those things out. The only two things, I actually can cut out are you and David. I've already had a talk with him about how I can't take it anymore and if he can't adjust either I will leave him or start fucking around as well. Honestly, it seemed to me as if he'd prefer if I just left, then. And now we're sitting here, because you are next on my list.”

“Next on your list, huh? Well that sounds ominous. Also, to be honest, I don't really see why I'm a problem. I'm just in town for a few days. We've got a few good leads on suspects and I'm fairly positive Sam and I will be out of here in the next two weeks. So you don't really have to... Do anything about me. Just wait it out and I'll be a problem that solves itself.”

Dean seems calm, his tone is relaxed, but Robyn senses something else underneath it all.

Annie comes back with their milkshakes, puts the one with the cherry in front of Dean and takes off again, not before shooting them another happy grin.

She takes three long gulps of her cold milkshake and presses her tongue against the roof of her head to prevent brainfreeze.

“Why are you so hell bent on all of this? You could've called me ages ago if you were so fucking eager to hang out with me. My parents still live in the same house with the same number. You left, never trying to get in touch and now you're back and I can't seem to get rid of you. What the hell is up with that?”

Dean picks up his nuclear red cherry while she talks and pops it in his mouth, pulling of the stem, dropping it on the tabletop. He chews slowly and the tip of his tongue shoots out to lick syrup of his bottom lip. Dean leans back and puts one arm over the back of his booth.

“It's one thing to not talk someone you haven't seen in years. You know, outta sight, outta mind. But when that same person suddenly stands in front of you, it... Brings shit up, in your mind. So maybe now that I'm here I have a hard time... Not talking to you. I... Yeah.”

“All good and well but you're just fucking with my life at this point. You said it yourself, you'll be gone in a few weeks. And then what, you wanna be pen pals? Or go back to how it was, ignoring each other's existence?”

Dean rolls his eyes at this and Robyn slurps some more of her shake.

“Can't we just enjoy right now?” Dean asks and Robyn snorts, milkshake almost coming out of her nose.

“No, actually, Dean, we cannot. I'm in a relationship and even if I wasn't, I'm not that type of girl. Wasn't back then, am not now. So forget it. Let's just have dinner, you drive me home and we go our separate ways, like we have been.”

As if on cue Annie comes over with two plates and sets them down, still knowing that bacon burger is for Dean. She tells them to enjoy and is off to the next table.

And Robyn digs in like half-starved race horse. Of course she can't beat Dean who eats faster than any eating competition champion but she isn't far behind and both their plates are licked clean within ten minutes. Robyn leans back as well and pats her belly.  
Being fed and know almost sober, Robyn sighs and starts talking to Dean. Might be the last time she ever sees him, might as well chat him up for a while. And surprisingly, he is not shrouded in secrets as usual, but open, and honest, and funny, and generally in a good mood. God, whoever he ends up with one day is one fucking lucky lady.

So it's almost eleven when Dean throws to 20s on the table and they get up to leave.  
The night is warm and balmy as they step outside and both take a deep breath.

“So, what now? Home?” Dean asks over his shoulder and Robyn sighs.

“Yeah, but you don't have to take the short way.” Robyn replies and Dean turns half around and gives her a little grin.  
That's what they would always do in high school, drive home through the back country, over dusty roads, through foggy forests, listening to music, just enjoying their company.


	14. S.O.B.

They both climb back into the car and Robyn gently runs a hand over the squeaky clean dashboard.

“Y'know, after you left... Well, not just after you left, but since then – The sound of this car has etched itself into my brain and every time I heard something similar I'd look around. Y'know, thinking, maybe it was you. But it never was.” 

Dean hesitates a second before turning the key in the ignition but then he does and there it is, that sound. That typical 60's muscle car engine rumble, mixed with a hint of motor cycle and heavy machinery. Dean puts her into reverse, backs out of their parking space and drives off the gravel onto the main road.

Robyn doesn't even need to ask him if he still knows his way around these parts when he takes an innocent looking dirt road off the highway and once again there's gravel crunching underneath the car's tires.

Without taking his eyes off the road for more than a second Dean reaches over, opens the glove box and takes out a grubby cardboard box which he places in Robyn's lap, before snapping the glove box shut again.

“What are those?” Robyn asks and pulls out her phone to illuminate the contents of the box that's a bit smaller than shoe sized.

Dean clears his throat and throws her a quick glance.

“Those are my tapes. You pick what you wanna listen to.”

Robyn's head snaps around to him and she gawks at his dimly lit profile.

“Whoa whoa whoa, wait, what? You've never allowed me to pick the music! What happened to driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole?” Robyn asks incredulously and Dean let's out a very surprised laugh.

“Holy shit, you remember that? Did I say it that often? He asks back and she shakes her head now, shining her phone's flashlight on what she now sees are a dozen or more cassette decks.

“No, just once, but your voice was commanding enough to make it stick all this time. So, how do I deserve this honor?”

The woods around them give way to farmland. Fields and grass and more fields.

“Well, if this is our last time hanging out I really wanted to go out with a bang.” Dean shrugs and Robyn regards him for a moment before looking back at the tapes.

“All righty then, what do we have here... Skynyrd, yeah always a good choice, AC/DC, mh-mhm, Def Leppard, Metallica, Motörhead, more Metallica, the Stones... Ah, that's the one.” Robyn says finally, pulls a deck out of the box and opens the case.

“Found something? I think the Stones are still in the player.” Dean says and pushes the eject button on his radio, a cassette slowly making it's way out while Robyn rummages around in the box for the according case. She finds an empty Stones case, pulls the tape out of the slot, pops it into the case and slides her tape of choice in. 

It crackles, Dean turns up the volume, Robyn puts first the box and then her phone away and then the first acoustic cords fill up the car. Dean grins wide and chuckles.

“I would've put 10 bucks down that you'd pick that.” He says and Robyn smiles, easing back into the soft and creaky leather cushions.

“What, Bob Seger's a genius in his own right!” She replies and bounces her right feet to the beat of Night Moves, one of her favorite songs. They only listen to the first verse before falling into easy conversation. Dean has never been hard to talk to. He's usually open, goofy and basically a walking pop culture encyclopedia.

Dean takes it slow on the narrow dirt roads, mindful of the wild animals around and the potholes and after a while of driving, he stretches a little in the driver's seat, cranking his head this way and that and finally his right arm comes to rest on the seat back. Like most old cars the Impala has one large front seat, no separation between driver's and passenger's seat. Robyn takes a deep breath and carefully slides over the leather, closer to Dean, leaning back against the back and laying her head on Deans forearm. She's too close now to see but she can feel him turning his head to look down at her and then his arm moves underneath her head, pushing it away again.

Robyn just has times to think “Well, that's crystal clear then”, thinking he was pushing her away, before Dean's right hand grabs Robyn's now accessible shoulder and pulls her in all the way so that her head comes to rest just below his shoulder. She sighs and snuggles in, taking in a deep breath and Dean's smell. His right is still loosely on her shoulder, his thumb painting small, soft circles.

While she scooted over a new song began and when Bob Seger starts on the second verse of “Turn the Page” - one of Robyn's all-time favourite of his – Robyn nearly passes out with shock as Dean starts singing along. Quietly, his chest vibrating with his breathing and his voice, and calmly he sings along to the verse and the chorus before being silent again.

“I... Never knew... You could sing.” Robyn manages to state, her mouth being dry as cotton balls. Dean's torso jiggles as he laughs.

“I don't think that qualifies as being able to sing. As long as your ears aren't bleeding...” He replies and she can still hear him grinning. And singing. It shouldn't be such a surprise that a voice like Dean's would sound good any way (speaking, singing, laughing, yelling, snoring, whatever) but it still is.

They go back to discussing the newest horror movies, Dean's voice a deep rumble in his chest to match the sound of his car, Robyn feeling like floating on a cloud.

“Can I ask you something?” Robyn asks after a while and Dean nods, she can feel his chin on her head. She snuggles in closer.

“Back then, you know, before you left, when we... We're in the car. I've been wondering something.”

Dean takes a left turn in the fields and Robyn knows these roads by heart – he is not yet going back into town. He is more so circling it. Buying time. His silence is Robyn's signal to go on.

“You know I was a virgin and that's why I was so scared and nervous, but I've always wondered... Were you?”

“What, was I nervous? Fuck, of course I was!” Dean replies. Robyn smiles.

“No, I mean, that too, but what I mean is... Were you a virgin too?” 

Robyn imagines Dean's breath catch in his chest for a second.

“I was 18 years old, Robyn.” He replies calmly and Robyn starts giggling.

“I fucking knew it.” She giggles and Dean groans before removing his hand off her shoulder, crawling down and tickling her ribs. Robyn squeals in terror but Dean's right arm is like a vice and his finger's a relentless torture device going at in full beast mode. Robyn is gasping for air, wriggling on the car seat and gripping onto dear life, concentrating hard on getting out of his grip and therefor not noticing that the car hasn't only slowed down, but actually stopped driving completely.

Only when Dean lets go of her and she starts gulping big gasps of air she realizes the car isn't moving anymore. Dean is rolling down a window so she can catch some fresh oxygen, grinning down on her contently.

“Where are we? Why did you stop?” Robyn asks, still trying to normalize her breathing and her heartbeat. She is sitting on the edge of the seat and Dean leans back, lets go of the steering wheel, grabs the key and kills the engine. He turns a little in his seat to look at her and the grinning disappears slowly.

“You got away from me back then and you got away from me the other night. You're not getting away tonight.” He stays, calm and cool as always. Robyn swallows. Involuntarily her upper body turns towards him.

“So what, you're stopping in the middle of the woods so I can't get away?” She asks, pretty calm herself. Dean rolls his eyes.

“The door is not locked. You can always get out and run home. I know you know you way around and you're not lacking the physical constitution either. So, no, that's not why we're here. But we can't – I had to get you out of your house, because you're paranoid that David might show up. Which is fair, I guess. I'm not too interested in finding out what it feels to get hit in the face by one of those anvil hands of the guy. So I thought I'd bring you out here.”

When Robyn doesn't reply he leans forward and silently takes off his t-shirt. Robyn gulps, hard. She can feel her palms get sweaty.


	15. Shoot Me Straight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally a climax, in more than one way.  
> Very explicit chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I promised I'll be finished soon :-)

David's 250 pound body has switched to autopilot as he charges out of the bar, not caring that there's no other staff present to take of the place and, most importantly, the cash register. Actually it's not that he doesn't care, it's more that the thought is not even crossing his mind at this moment.  
It will soon enough but right now his brain is working on the most basic functions, just trying to get David to the house as fast as possible.

With a few long strides he's crossed the parking lot and pulls himself into the cab of his truck, jamming the key into the ignition, not bothering with a seat belt, shoving the stick into drive and making the gravel fly several feet behind his back wheels as he charges out of the parking lot and onto the main road.

//

Dean's upper body looks exactly the way Robyn remembers it. Pretty much hairless and smooth skin, a spatter of freckles across the shoulders, clearly visible arm, shoulder and chest muscles but no sixpack. That seems to be Sam's thing these days.

A subtle tan line along his neck and biceps.

Robyn's mind is racing with the possibilities, her pulse matching the pace, when Dean reaches down, places his right hand on the zipper of his jeans and gives a gentle squeeze while readjusting his seating.

“Even my dick is behaving like back in the day, getting hard before you've even touched it.” Dean grins, voice even lower now. It's all Robyn can do to suppress the moan that wants to escape her. It's pretty gloomy in the car but there is enough light to see the clear outline of the bulge beneath Dean's fly.

“I've actually always wondered what you looked like.” Robyn whispers and mirrors Dean's grin. His left eyebrow climbs up half an inch and he nods while pursing his lips.

“Did you now? Well, that's an easy fix. Judge me kindly.” Dean replies and before the meaning of those words fully sink into Robyn's foggy brain, Dean lifts his ass a little off the seat while unbuckling his belt and opening his jeans. As he slides back down so do his jeans. Underneath them he is wearing tight black briefs that barely leave anything to the imagination.

Robyn exhales deeply and leans back in her seat, resting her back against the door and her head against the cool window.

As Dean's right hand reaches into the briefs Robyn props her left leg up on the seat, her right leg dangling down. And when Dean grabs his cock and pulls it out of its tight confinement Robyn slides her left hand into her leggings and underneath her thong. She is surprised at herself at how wet she is. 

Dean, upon seeing what Robyn is up to, pauses, cock in hand. And my, what a beautiful cock it is. Ever so slightly curved upwards, veins running down it's considerable length, a very solid girth. Uncut.

Dean blinks at Robyn and her hand moving slightly in her leggings.

Don't go crazy now Robyn, she warns herself, or you'll come in 25 seconds.

“Keep going.” Robyn says while her index finger circles her clit in slow motion. She can see Dean swallow, hard, and nod. And his hand starts moving, just as slowly as hers. This time she doesn't even try to keep in her moan. Shit. If this is not the most beautiful thing she has ever seen...

With her free right hand she reaches up to the hem of her top, hiking it up above her breasts, exposing them, pinching her left nipple.

“Holy fuck” Dean rasps and seems so transfixed that he forgets to move for a second or two.

“Keep. Going.” Robyn orders, not hearing the music anymore, not feeling the warm air from the vents or the cold glass against her scalp. She just feels her own hands and Dean's burning green eyes on her body.

While Dean's brain doesn't seem to process her words his body does and his hands certainly do, because his right starts moving up and down the length of his shaft in slow, deliberate movements, while his left slides deep into his underwear, probably cupping his balls.

Robyn is trying really, really hard to pace herself but like in that one horror movie her hand seems to have a mind and a plan of its own, picking up speed and intensity on her swollen clit. Her breath is coming out in short and intense bursts, her heart is racing ten miles a minute and her body seems to vibrate. Her eyes are zoned in on Dean, her gaze switching between his gorgeous and rock-hard dick and his face, his expression an intoxicating mix between amazement, restraint and pure and open lust.

Robyn reaches over to her right breast and rubs over her hard nipple, another moan coming up from her throat. She looks down for a second and looks back up, right into Dean's eyes and that seems to do something to Dean now because for the first time he, too, moans. Robyn is briefly surprised that the pitch of his moan is higher than his regular voice. But only very, very briefly. Because whatever her looking into Dean's eyes did to him, his moaning did something way worse to her. Or better. 

Before she even knows what's happening that little sound coming from Dean sends her over the edge. She comes, her orgasm so strong and her underwear so wet that she wonders absently if she just squirted for the first time. She whines, arches her back, trying to ride out the intense waves shaking her hole body. Grabbing onto the seat with her free right hand she waits it out and it's almost like an outer body experience where she sees herself pretty much convulsing in pleasure and Dean, opposite of her, completely frozen, staring at her, enraptured.

Of course Robyn doesn't count but if she had to take a guess she'd say it took a solid 30 seconds before she calmed down again. She falls back against the door, taking a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself and her pulse. Then she opens her eyes and looks at Dean who stares at her, mouth open, eyes wide and dark, dick glistening with a fat drop of precum. Still not moving.

“Did you bring condoms?” Robyn asks, her voice raspy, her throat dry.

Dean nods, slowly, towards the glove compartment. Robyn pulls herself up, opens the door once again and rummages for a few seconds before pulling out a shiny black cardboard box. She grabs one crinkly pack from inside the box, throws it back and closes the door. She tosses the condom to Dean who does not hesitate for even a second. While Dean rips the foil open and pulls out the condom Robyn slides forward and pulls first her leggings and then her string down and finally her top up over head (not wearing a damn sports bra tonight!) and then turns towards Dean, now butt naked, who is just rolling the clear condom down his shaft.

Robyn climbs over to Dean's side on all fours and Dean turns over in his seat, facing the windshield again, so Robyn can comfortably slide over his lap and rest her legs on either side of his thighs. She lowers down over his unzipped jeans, Dean's cock accidentally rubbing against her still super sensitive clit and she winces. Dean grabs her thigh with one hand and her hair with the other, pulling her head down towards his, ramming his mouth against hers. She steadies herself behind him on the seat back and shoves her other hand in his soft, thick hair.

Their tongues clash and there is Dean's moan again and Robyn nearly pants in desperation as she hears it. This is all too much. She can feel Dean's cock twitch against her lower belly as he slides his hand down over her thigh, reaches around and squeezes her butt cheek.

Robyn involuntarily presses up against Dean, feeling that the sensitivity has gone down at least a tiny bit.

After a few minutes of solid making out Robyn feels ready to take the next step and pulls away from Dean. He gives her ass another firm squeeze and blinks up at her. Jesus Christ, if there was a job like lash model this guy could definitely make a lot of money.

“This is... I didn't think... Fuck me.” Dean rumbles, obviously completely in shock over the last hours.

“Gladly.” Robyn replies, lifting her butt off Dean's lap, grabbing his slick cock at the bottom, guiding it to her pussy and, when she feels his tip at her entrance, slowly sinking back down onto his lap. Very slowly.

Dean's head rolls forward for a second before dropping over to the back, eyes closed tightly.

“Holy... Shit... Take it easy there, Robyn.”

There was no need to say that as Robyn still feels a little raw and needs to take it slow to be able to take him all in. She breathes slowly and takes him inch by inch until she finally sits firmly on his thighs. She waits a few seconds, adjusting to him inside her, twitching, throbbing. Dean finally lifts his head and places his hands back on both her thighs.

“How are you so tight? You're not still a virgin, are you?” Dean asks in a low, shaky voice. Robyn giggles slightly and holds on to Dean's broad shoulders.

“No, I'm always like that after I come, that's why I needed to take it a bit slower myself.”

“Well, fuck, that's a sure fire way to get every guy to always make you come, huh?”  
Robyn feels comfortable on his lap now and wriggles a little to prepare to move. Dean's breath hitches and she grins.

“Yeah but I still have to do it myself sometimes.” She says and Dean manages a little snort, then looks up at her.

“Next time I'll help you with that.” He says with a sloppy grin and Robyn bends down and kisses him again.

“That's nice, but now let's take care of you, huh?” She says in between kisses and starts moving. Gently, carefully at first until she got used to the feeling of him so deep inside her, but then she starts going at it in earnest. And damn, if this doesn't feel just as amazing as she always imagined. Maybe a little better. Dean being putty in her hands is a sight to behold.

//

David is practically flying across crossroads and around bends in the road, making the drive home in record time. Robyn's rusty old Porsche is in the driveway, just where he last saw it and the black Impala is nowhere to be seen. Most of the house lies in darkness, but there is light coming from behind the front door. David shoots into the driveway, nearly crashing into the Porsche before coming to a harsh stop, killing the engine, leaving the key, jumping out and running towards the door.


End file.
